Adaptation
by Miss Baby
Summary: Bella's plan seemed so simple: be a fabulous mom, make a great career for herself doing what she loves, and win Edward back. Piece of cake! But just when the final ingredients were coming together, life whipped up another recipe. Now, instead of getting to enjoy her happily ever after, she has to adapt to a whole new set of circumstances.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

_**LadySharkey1 rocks my world by being the most amazing, kick-ass beta I could ever imagine. **_

* * *

**Prologue**

The first time I was forced to listen to _The Talk_ I was twelve years old and only hours into my first period.

_Embarrassing!_

Still traumatized by the sudden onset of blood, my mom—hippie extraordinaire who believes that people should be just as free to talk about their bodily functions as they were about the weather—sat me down to reassure me that I wasn't bleeding to death. Then, as if that wasn't enough, she proceeded to tell me all about penises and vaginas and the disgusting things she and my dad were up to when I thought they were sleeping.

Cycles.

Tampons.

Sperm.

Condoms.

I was in shock!

Needless to say, I decided right then and there to not date boys.

And I was definitely _never_ having sex!

Oh, and I was never going to go into my parent's room again. Gross!

I would have preferred to stay happy in my ignorance and just continued to believe in storks that delivered those little baby girl or bouncing baby boy poop factories to the doors of happy parents worldwide.

Childhood dreams were better than messy realities.

And it wasn't even like I needed that talk or anything when I had Rose Hale—my best friend who was a two years older than me and a fountain of wisdom on all things concerning kissing and stuff.

Two years after telling me how babies were made, and a good three months into my first real relationship, my dad cornered me in an unexpected moment and had his say about boys. While my mom's speech had been disgusting because she'd used _way too many_ examples from her own personal experiences—yuck—my dad's rant about 'teenaged dirtbags and their one-track minds' was equally unsettling. Especially since the dirtbag in question was my fourteen year old boyfriend, Edward Cullen. Who also happened to be my next-door neighbor and his godson, although my dad pretended like he was a villain trying to steal his daughter's virtue.

Trying like hell to protect my sanity during his one-sided conversation, I faked paying attention while humming _Hollaback Girl_ in my head and looked for the quickest, safest exist strategy.

As it turned out, I really should have been paying attention, though, because another two years later, I turned into the most epic teenage cliché of my time.

The teen mom.

Yes, the girl who'd said she'd never have sex was sixteen, pregnant, and everything else you'd find when watching MTV. Man, did I hate being one of _those_ girls!

It wasn't just the fact that my baby girl was unplanned or that it really messed with all the plans me and Edward had been carefully crafting our futures around. It was the judging looks and the whispers I got whenever my ever-growing belly went into town. They were the kinds of whispers that are merely _disguised_ as whispers but are actually intended for you to hear.

Luckily, my pregnancy hormones soon managed to garner such a reputation that after a couple of weeks most of the townsfolk were too damn scared of me to keep up their antics. Though my father did have quite a day job smoothing stuff over whenever I, and on occasion, my mom, flew off the handle.

The pasta sauce incident in the middle of the local 7Eleven had taken on almost mythical proportions in the small town gossip over the years. Let's just say that Mrs. Carter would never forget that day, either.

I was still proud of myself.

We made the most of it, though, redesigning our futures with the help of our amazing parents as we brought our little girl into the world. Charlotte Cullen—Charlie—had been my entire world from the moment I found out she was growing inside of me. When I got to hold her in my arms for the first time, I knew everything was going to be alright.

And I was right.

There was only one thing that had gone wrong along the way, though—one tiny blemish on my otherwise so perfect life.

Our relationship didn't survive.

Whether it was my stubbornness or his failure to communicate, I wasn't sure, but somewhere along the way, we grew apart. As we both struggled to combine parenting with our college educations—he was pre-med and I chose the culinary arts—somehow we lost sight of each other. From that point, it only took something so small and childish, and very insignificant, that we'd both forgotten what exactly happened to finalize our break up and turn us into another epic cliché.

A broken home.

Not that we were fighting all the time or anything. We just became roommates who happened to have a kid together.

For Charlie's sake, we put her needs before ours, even when our young minds didn't want to, and set rules both for her and ourselves that had managed to keep us talking. Somehow we even end up as friends in the end.

At least we didn't end up being exactly like an MTV show, thank goodness.

Not that my heart still didn't hurt, though, to know that he and I no longer belonged together.

The one thing that I had been missing in my life over the past couple of years was his love. But hopefully not for much longer, though. When he announced to his family that he'd managed to secure a residency spot at the local hospital and was moving back to Forks, Washington in Fall, there was only one thing I knew for sure.

That was my chance to win him back.

* * *

_**Thoughts?**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

_**LadySharkey1 rocks my world by being the most amazing, kick-ass beta I could ever imagine. **_

* * *

**Chapter 1**

_The stage is set_

**Two weeks earlier**

"Mom!" I grin just from hearing my daughter's voice. "Mom! You'll never guess what I saw today!"

I smiled as I wiped my hands on my apron as my ten year old daughter buzzed through the bakery like a hurricane. She only stopped when her eyes finally landed on me.

"Careful," I warned her, pointing to the immaculate tower of cakes and delicate flower decorations that made up Rachel Black's wedding cake.

She blushed guiltily, taking her next couple of steps very carefully around the cake. Growing up in a _patisserie_ had taught her to treat the fruits of all my hard work with the utmost care.

And for me, I always had to be on the lookout when I knew she was on the premises.

"You went on that school trip to the riding stables today, didn't you?" I asked. It wasn't like I didn't know that, of course. Charlie's constant, excited reminders would have certainly clued me in even if hadn't read their letter asking for permission and explaining the trip.

She nodded furiously. "It was _so_ cool, Mom! I got to ride a pony! A _real_ pony!"

_Jesus take the wheel! Ten to one she'll want to take up horse riding now. Why was it a good idea to let her go again?_ I was already weighing the pros and cons of letting my baby girl take riding lessons as she took off into a comprehensive tale of just about everything she'd done that day since the second I'd dropped her off at school.

Apparently, horses kicked ass.

In a good way.

"So, what are you doing, Mom?" she asked as soon as her own stories had dried up. "The cake's almost done, isn't it?"

I nodded. "It's for Rachel. You remember her, don't you?"

"Uncle Jake's sister?" Charlie nodded, swiping one of the leftover fondant flowers from the tray.

"She's getting married tonight at the rez, so Uncle Jake is going to take up the cake as soon as he's finished with work today," I explained.

Jake, or Jacob Black as his full name was, wasn't actually family but he'd been working for me for the entire two years I'd been open, making my deliveries for me. And just like everyone who'd been a fixture in my daughter's life, she started to call him 'uncle' after a couple of months. Just long enough for him to prove to her that he was awesome enough to carry the title.

And Jake _was_ pretty awesome, even if sometimes his head was a little too big for the shoulders it rested on.

His dad was a longstanding friend of mine, which was how I managed to find a delivery guy who would work on my terms (being: very irregularly) in the first place. His family had standing on the reservation he'd grown up on and I guess Jake was some sort of chief to his tribe. The paycheck he cashed in for that, though, was barely enough to support his family and pay for his ailing father's medical bills, which was where I came in.

If anyone would have told me ten years ago, when I'd just found out I was pregnant and thought the world as I knew it was coming to an end, that within the decade I would graduate from culinary school and open one of the most successful _patisseries_ on the Pacific Peninsula, I would have thought they were playing a very cruel joke on me.

Luck, for once, had been on my side, though.

Luck, and two sets of amazingly supportive parents.

When Edward and I had finally worked up the courage to tell our parents about my pregnancy and our decision to keep the baby, we'd expected them to be angry and hurt. Knowing the high hopes they had of us, we knew they were going to be so disappointed to see everything they had dreamed of for out futures come to a screeching halt.

They'd been disappointed, that was for sure, but the screaming and anger we'd been prepared for had never come. Instead they sat us down to make new plans and adapt the roadmap Edward and I had already planned out for this new situation.

Oh, and they kept us from doing silly, spur-of-the-moment stuff like get married before we could even vote or legally drink alcohol.

With both my mom and his beside me, I'd been able (or forced was more like it, at times) to keep up with my schoolwork even when I hadn't been able to attend class; their care of little Charlotte made sure I had enough rest and free time to focus on my assignments and keep up with the rest of my peers.

After graduation, they'd set up a schedule around my college classes so that I could always leave my little girl behind, knowing she was in the best possible hands.

Then, luck came. I'd been working a weekend job at the local bakery for as long as I could imagine, helping out Mr. Molina with the weekend rush while learning all there was to know about bread and sweets. It was there, that I'd fallen in love with all things pasty and, though my life became increasingly hectic as I went to college, I'd always stayed connected to the shop. So much so that when I graduated from college, my graduation gift from Mr. Molina was a rental agreement to both the shop and the apartment above it at a very friendly rate. It turned out Mr. Molina had been longing to retire to some sunny place for quite some time, and with me graduating and looking for a place to work in town, he was seizing the opportunity to leave his business in good hands.

I was lucky to get this chance, even if it had cost me a lot of blood, sweat, and tears to build the business into what it had become today.

"What's for dinner?" my daughter asked, cutting my trip down memory lane short as she swiped yet another leftover fondant rosette. "I'm hungry."

"That's what you get from running around all day," I chuckled, swatting her hands away before she could steal the last of the leftover flowers. That one was mine; a reward for all the hard work I'd put into finishing the cake. "Grandma Esme called to invite us over for dinner tonight. She says she and Grandpa Carlisle have some important news to tell us."

Just then Rose, my shop manager, walked in. "You have a new order," she announced, winking at Charlie before she turned her attention back to me. "The Mallory's want to celebrate their son's birthday party with a balloon made out of cupcakes."

"_Okay_." I was a bit wary of her announcement, not because I couldn't do a cupcake balloon. However, the Mallory's had become known in the shop as people who wanted us to jump through burning hoops while pulling off small miracles only to not be happy with the end result.

"They want it to be three dimensional but without any inedible props supporting it." Rose cringed already knowing that was she was asking of me just couldn't be done. "Now I know this is going to be hard…"

"_Impossible_," I interrupted her, carefully placing my palette knife on the workbench next to the cake.

"Extremely difficult," Rose corrected me, "but you know they've been good, if not slightly hard to please, customers over the years and with that Newton worm establishing himself in Port Angeles…"

"Yeah, yeah," I grumbled, noting how my daughter had taken off up the stairs to our apartment as soon as shit got real. _My little traitor._ "We can't afford to lose customers and the referrals we get because of them." I sighed. "I just wish that, for once, Lauren would be happy with something that could actually be _done_."

"And you know, just like I do, that somehow you will find some way to pull this off," Rose retorted. "That's why the big fish always come to you."

"Oh, great!" Rolling my eyes I took a step back, regarding my latest masterpiece.

"Are you still working on that charity piece?" Rose scolded me. "I know you have at least three orders from customers who are actually paying the full price waiting for you after you've finished _this_."

That was why I'd hired her in the first place. Rose had always been my best friend and someone I could trust without question, but above that, she was a shrewd businesswoman where I was more concerned with the creative aspects of the shop. Meaning: if it had been just me, I'd have run this place into the ground two months after we'd opened for business. I really had no sense of self-preservation.

"You know what Jake said," I defended myself, my eyes proudly running over my latest creation. "Rachel's wedding is going to be huge and at least three of her cousins are engaged and another one probably will be soon. That's _four_ wedding cakes that could come out of a job well done. Not to mention birthday cakes, holiday orders, and everything else in between."

Well, that shut her up. If there was one thing Rose never argued with it was the prospect of new orders. Still, judging by the small huff and the ferocity in her step as she marched back out of the kitchen, she hated losing an argument just as much today as she had when we were kids.

And it didn't help that she and Jake didn't get along either.

I wasn't sure what happened between the two of them but knowing Rose, I was pretty sure it had happened in a bedroom. Far be it from me to call my best friend a slut but that was kind of what she was.

I mean, what other name is there for a girl who'd fucked most of the unmarried men in town?

According to Rose it was just a simple case of 'try before you buy'. Seeing as she was a very physical kind of gal (her words) and sex was one of the key elements in a relationship to her, she just didn't feel like committing to a guy before she'd found out what his abilities were between the sheets.

Thankfully, Rose stuck to the front of the shop as Jake came in to pick up his sister's wedding cake; his nerves at maneuvering the cake into the back of our delivery truck quite adorable. If there was anyone who could get this cake from Forks to La Push without any harm coming to it, it was him.

Waving away his thanks, I made quick work of cleaning up the kitchen, the monotony of scrubbing the steel countertops and the huge stove as the dishwasher hummed behind me gave me the peace of mind to take stock of the orders that were waiting for my attention and visualize them in my mind.

By the time I'd made a few sketches and finished my prep work for the next day—I could start bright and early without having to bother with measuring out the non-perishable ingredients and set up my station—Rose had already closed the shop for the night and had dashed out the back to prepare for a hot date she had that night with a guy from Port Angeles.

Apparently she'd run out of local men.

Shaking my head, I made my way upstairs to my cozy home. Living above my business had its benefits—like when, even when I was running late, I could still grab a quick shower and be on time for dinner at the Cullens'—but the downside was that I never really got away from my work. It happened quite often that inspiration struck in my sleep and I couldn't stop myself from going downstairs to get a head start. That was fine and dandy when it came to the business side of things but not so much when you had an awesome but scarily energetic ten year old running around the place.

Buzzing through the house I was able to get ready, tear my daughter away from an apparently fascinating book on the creatures of the Amazon, and race across town to arrive at Carlisle and Esme's house with only minutes to spare. Esme chuckled, shaking her head as she opened the door to a beaming little granddaughter and her flustered looking mother. "You could have just called me to say you were running late."

I shrugged, smirking. "I wanted to be on time for once." I didn't have to explain myself any further. She already knew my issues with time management.

"Come on in, silly," she urged, stepping aside to let us into the house. "Carlisle's already on the back deck grilling the steaks. I thought we might make the most of the sun while it lasts and eat outdoors."

"Cool!" Charlie cheered. "Can I go help him?" With a pleading face like the one she pulled, neither Esme nor I had the ability to say no to her. Knowing her granddad would make sure she was safe, I was only too happy to see her enjoy being outside with him. After all, Edward's parents had a huge backyard that was perfect for her to run around, unlike the little stone patio with a few wilting plants we had at home.

"Alice will be down in a second," Esme reassured me as I followed her down to the kitchen. "She'll keep an eye on Charlie while Carlisle keeps an eye on the meat." True to form, I could already hear the footsteps of the Cullens' younger child thundering down the stairs as Alice rushed to join her niece.

She had been just as much of a 'whoopsie' as Charlie had been, arriving completely unexpectedly ten years after Edward had been born and Carlisle and Esme had long ago given up the hope of conceiving a second child. Maybe that was why Esme had understood the position Edward and I had found ourselves in from the start? She knew what it was like to assume your life was going in a certain direction only to have it make a complete u-turn on you.

Carlisle, however, was a different matter.

I knew he loved his grandchild unconditionally and outwardly he had never blamed me for being so scatter-brained that I'd apparently been careless with my birth control pills, but still…there had always been _something_ in his behavior towards me that made me feel resented somehow. I knew he'd had big hopes for his smart son; hopes that were finally coming to fruition, but not exactly in the way he'd probably planned them.

His plans had no doubt been for Edward to study at Dartmouth, his alma mater, and make the dreams he'd had for his own future a reality. A couple of years ago, Esme had confided in me that the Cullens had only ended up in Forks because Esme's mom had become sick and she couldn't bear the thought of putting her in a nursing home. Moving out to Forks a year or so before Edward was born, Carlisle had had to put his hopes of earning a spot at one of the prestigious medical centers on the east coast on hold, only to give them up altogether a couple of years later when he realized just how settled his family had become in small town Washington.

As soon as Edward had professed an interest in medicine and the inner working of the human body, Carlisle's hopes that his son was going to set everything right had begun to grow. How I figured into those hopes back then I wasn't sure.

Hell, I wasn't even sure if I'd figured into them _at all_.

Sighing, I put the dessert I'd brought with me in the fridge. It made no sense to keep worrying about stuff that couldn't be changed, even if Carlisle's gruff behavior still stung.

At least I still had Esme in my corner.

"Do you have any idea of what you want for Alice's birthday cake?" I asked, knowing her seventeenth birthday was coming up in November. "I was thinking about doing something with different designer shoe boxes, stacked on top of each other." Just like so many other girls her age, Alice was completely obsessed with fashion and had ideas about becoming the next big designer when she was older.

It made me think back on when I was her age; a new mom and desperate to keep up with everything happening in my life in order to prove to the town gossips, as well as that little voice in the back of my head right, that I _could_ do it.

"That would be amazing!" Esme gushed. "I hadn't even thought of that! How clever!"

"Well, it's kind of my job to think about that stuff," I shrugged, uneasy under such praise. "Anyway…you said you had some news to share?"

"I do." Esme was positively beaming when she turned towards me, setting my mind a little bit more at rest. _At least it probably means it's good news. _

I was a little shocked when out of nowhere, she grabbed my arm, her voice practically singing when she burst out, "He's coming _home_, Bella. He's _finally_ coming back home."

Now I could have been coy and asked her who the fuck she was talking about, but seriously, there really could only be one person. And the thought of him coming home again had me dancing around along with her.

_Finally!_

"He's so happy he managed to secure a spot at Forks General," Esme gushed, her arms rocking me from side to side like a baby. "I've seen how much it tears at him to be so far away from you both."

I nodded. After all, Edward and I might not have been together anymore but we'd remained very close friends and were determined to both be there for our little girl so that she wouldn't miss out on anything, even if that mean Edward had to make the tough three hour drive from Seattle after having a full day of classes to spend some time with his daughter. Many of his evenings were spent on the phone with her when he probably should have been studying for his exams.

Even though becoming teen parents made our lives more difficult at times, we both sacrificed ourselves for the best possible reason, our daughter. We had no regrets bringing her into the world.

Edward and I had made things work but I'd be foolish not to acknowledge what our sacrifices it had meant; the most monumental one on my side still weighed on my heart like a ton of bricks. I sighed, as I remembered the conversation I'd overheard which had made my whole world spiral out of control. The pain I'd felt back then, was still just as grueling as it had been, even though I rarely chose to accept it.

None of it mattered anymore, though.

Edward was coming back.

After I'd all but given up hope, my second chance with him would finally come.

* * *

_**Thoughts?**_


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

_**LadySharkey1 rocks my world by being the most amazing, kick-ass beta I could ever imagine. **_

* * *

**Chapter 2**

_The big date-fail of the century._

**Two weeks later**

"You need a plan."

I jumped, hearing Rose's voice behind me. "What?"

"You've been running around like a spaced-out chicken with its head cut off for most of the week and, as amusing as it was at first, it's kind of getting on my nerves right now," she scolded me, rolling her eyes. She swiped a cookie from the plate where I always dumped the ones that didn't meet the shops' standards. "As much as I hate the asshole for actually believing you when you pushed him away, I know he's kind of important to you, so I'm gonna help you out on this one."

Crossing her arms in front of her chest she took on the 'almighty relationship expert-look' that might have worked when we were still thirteen, but kind of fell flat since I knew she'd never actually been in a true relationship. At least, not one that lasted longer than one night. "If you want to make any sort of impression on him that doesn't fall into the babbling lunatic category, you're going to need to get your act together, _mamacita_."

I smirked. _She's kind of right_.

"So, what's the plan of attack going to be?" she asked. Rose paced in front of me like a general instructing her troops. "Jump him the minute he steps out of his car or butter him up with dinner and sweets first, then hop on that disco stick and ride it like Seabiscuit?"

"Uh, none of the above?" I snorted. "We've been apart for almost a decade, Rose! And even when we were together, look where sex got us: sixteen years old and pregnant! There will be no jumping of bones for at least a month into our relationship."

"Your funeral!" My best friend shrugged. "I just thought you might want to find out if he picked up a thing or two while you guys were apart. After all, last time you two did the horizontal tango you guys weren't exactly riding a wave of sexual experience, if you know what I mean."

I narrowed my eyes, not exactly liking where this was going. "He was good, okay? Experienced or not, our sex life wasn't what broke us up. Far from it, in fact." It was our stupidity.

_My_ stupidity.

Sighing, I put down the piping bag, the neat rows of chocolate swirls somehow not looking quite as appealing as they did before she came in. "I don't want to talk about this."

Rose merely shrugged, the dinging of the shops' bell drawing her back to the front and leaving me behind in the bakery with nothing to do but mull over her words as I put the tray in the fridge and set to work cleaning the worktops.

I'd never admit it but the thought of Edward having sex with somebody else made me sick to my stomach. As bad as things had been between us in the end, I'd never stopped loving him and somehow believed that we'd somehow make our way back to each other. Even if I hadn't really done anything to make that happen.

Yet.

It was naïve of me to think that he'd been living like a monk for all these years. He had been busy with medical school, and living on campus with God knew how many delectable pieces of ass. Sure, he may have come home almost every weekend to be with his kid—_our_ kid—but that still left plenty of time during the week to get up to all kinds of…_things_.

Just because _I_ hadn't had sex since the last time we'd slept together didn't mean that he'd been abstaining. He'd never talked about all the possible girls he'd been boning when he stayed at his parents' house. Not that he would, with his kid running around the place.

He was bound, as Rose harshly put it, to have picked up a couple of tricks along the way, and as much as I wanted to benefit from those tricks, I didn't particularly want to hear about them.

Or even think about it, for that matter.

"Ugh!" I growled, slamming the mixing bowls on the counter as I set to work on my next project. It was a revised recipe of the classic _gateau l'opera_ or 'opera cake' that I wanted to add to our menu but hadn't been able to get quite right yet. All the layers were there, of course, and they all tasted amazing apart from each other. Put together, though, the balance had been off.

And it irked me like nothing else.

I was in my element when I was baking. Gone were my worries about being a good mom, my near-absent love life, and whether or not the shop was doing well. When I was kneading dough or putting the pieces of the perfect cake together, I could just work my way from one layer to the next by the sheer force of skill and imagination and leave my mind pleasantly clouded by the fog of sugar and butter that constantly hung in the bakery. Baking was my safe, happy place, so when it went wrong, it drove my crazy!

I was just about ready to spread the top layer of tempered chocolate glace on top of the finished product when my phone started to ring. Annoyed, I tried to ignore it as I used my palette knife to spread out the thick, gooey liquid but the damn thing just kept on ringing, even after the first call had gone to voicemail. _Fucking fuck! Whoever's calling has better be dying!_

By the time I was ready to put the cake aside to firm, my head was throbbing and I was beyond being polite as I picked up, not even bothering to look at the name on the display. "This had better be important!"

"Ah, fuck!" A very familiar voice sounded on the other end of the line. "I forgot you were still at work."

_Edward._ Even though I was still pissed off as hell, the mere sound of his voice made me smile. He did that to people. "If I messed up this cake because of you, there's going to be hell to pay," I warned him. In spite of what happened between us and my lingering feelings, we'd always remained great friends over the years so I was kind of banking on the fact that he would be able to pick up the delicate balance between joking and seriousness in my voice.

Because, all joking aside, there was going to be hell to pay if I messed this cake up for the second time.

"Why don't you bring a piece with you tonight and let me be the judge?" he challenged, chuckling in that way that always made my heart flutter.

_Wait….what?_

"Tonight?" I asked, doing a mental round up of all my appointments I could remember. "What's happening tonight? Did I miss something?"

"Nah," he replied, sounding almost nervous. What the hell was going on? "I'm in town for a meeting at the hospital and I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner with me."

I gasped. "Dinner? With you? Tonight?" _Oh. My. God. Could I sound like more of an idiot? _

"I've already asked my mom to watch Charlie for the night and she was more than happy to take her." _I bet._ "So…" His voice trailed off, the silence bordering on awkward as I did a little happy dance around the bakery.

He was asking me out on a date!

A real dinner date!

And maybe some slight groping under the table if I was lucky.

I was going on a date with Edward Cullen; baby daddy extraordinaire and star of all my naughty fantasies.

Squee!

"Bella?" Much to my joy, his voice had doubled on the nervousness; the feeling that he was as flustered about all this as I was had been surprisingly comforting. "Are you still there?"

"I am," I was quick to reply. "And I'd love to go!"

"Okay." Nerves had made place for relief, another adorable and comforting feeling to pick up on. "I've made reservations at this place in Port Angeles at eight. Pick you up at seven?"

Port Angeles? Wow, the dude was really meant business if he wanted to drive all the way to a fancy restaurant in the Port. "T-that will be fine by me," I stammered, the nerves already setting in as I said a shaky goodbye and ran out of the bakery like my ass was on fire.

"Rose?" I squeaked, for the moment I didn't care whether or not there were customers in the shop. "I need your help."

Rose's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree as she almost dropped the platter of _petits fours_ she'd been rearranging before putting them back in the display case. "I never thought I'd hear those words!" There really shouldn't have been so much happiness in her voice. "What can I do for you, bestie?"

"Edward's talking me to dinner tonight and I want to look amazing," I explained, wiping my chocolate stained hands on my apron.

Rose nodded pensively, looking me up and down as she muttered, "I can see why that calls for my help."

"I can look good on my own," I pouted, childishly crossing my arms like I'd seen my daughter do a million times. It wasn't like I didn't know I lacked the finesse Rose showed in her supermodel looks, but on the other hand I also knew I didn't exactly look like I'd been dragged backwards through a bush.

"You might," Rose answered mercilessly, "at least…if you had an outfit that screamed hot, sexy mama instead of serious business woman with some makeup to match. Your outfits are great if you wanted to throw a sales pitch his way—I know because _I_ put them together for you—but if you're looking to make him see what he's been missing all these years, you're going to need to show a whole lot more skin."

I smirked, knowing she was kind of right. Over the past couple of years, I'd been pretty much absent from the dating scene or even the 'casual dining' scene, which meant that all my dress clothes were meant to look good on business dinners or cake presentations.

Not _me_ presentations.

"Just don't make me look like I belong on a street corner," I warned her.

An hour later I had been plucked, buffed and forced into clothes that felt so awkwardly tight that I sat, blinking like a mute as she made her grand reveal.

"Wow."

"I know, right?" she grinned proudly. "He won't know what hit him. When is he arriving again?"

I glanced at the clock, my nerves pounding in my throat. "In ten minutes. He picked Charlie up from school this afternoon and went to spend some time with her and get her settled in at his parents' before coming over here."

"Then you'd better head on down to put on your shoes," she urged me, the prospect of wearing the heels she'd brought for me not at all appealing. It was moments like that when I really hated having the same shoe-size as she did.

"Oh, and Bella?" I looked back as she packed up her things again, her face worryingly serious as she looked back at me. "Be careful before you jump into this, okay? I don't want to see you heartbroken all over again."

I nodded, knowing what she meant. "I'll try."

The door hadn't shut behind Rose for a minute before the doorbell rang; the vision of Edward, standing on my doorstep wearing a suit and his trademark smirk made me realize how I didn't stand a snowball's chance in hell at being careful. Even standing there, I had to resist the urge to climb him like an apple tree and kiss the hell out of him. Among other things…

I wanted him.

I wanted him right then and there, damn it. Heartbreak or not.

"Are you ready?" he asked, his eyes traveling over my body as he smiled nervously, running a hand through his previously somewhat tamed hair. _Esme will be disappointed. That looked like her handiwork. _

Grinning at how some things never changed, I took his arm and locked the door behind me as I followed him to his car. Really, some things never changed. "Another Volvo?"

He shrugged. "They're the safest cars out there and since Charlie's probably going to spend some more time with me in it, I thought I'd rather go for safety than a sports car."

"Smart thinking." I forced my lips into a smile, the thought of my little tomboy spending more time with her dad when he moved both excited me and made me feel a slight pang of jealousy. In spite of the weekends and holidays she spent with Edward when he was home, over the past couple of years it had always been me and Charlie against the rest of the world.

What if she decided she liked her dad better?

I pushed those thoughts aside almost as soon as they entered my mind. It was foolish, really. Over the years, Edward and I had remained really close. Both for the sake of our kid and because it had always been the two of us, really: best friends, lovers, parents. Apart from Rose, he was the only person I could talk to when everything became too much for me, and over the years I'd found that the same went for him.

As we drove he told me about his meeting earlier that day and his excitement to start out as a resident at the hospital he'd volunteered at since he was fourteen. It turned out it had been his idea all along to try and complete his residency here, but he'd been too afraid of failure to share his dreams with anyone else before he knew for certain they were going to come true.

"Mom only found out on the same day she called you, when I'd finally signed the contract," he explained, looking a little guilty. "I would have told you directly, but…"

"Esme beat you to it?" I guessed.

"I went out celebrating with some of my friends and when I came home to call you, I already had a message from Mom telling me how excited you and Charlie were," he chuckled, deftly steering the shiny silver Volvo along the familiar road to Port Angeles.

"She _is_ super-excited, by the way," I answered, smiling at the memory of Charlie's jubilant face when she heard the news. "We _all_ are." I was still congratulating myself on the subtleness of my remark when I noticed the awkward silence that had settled in, my nerves spiking as I tried to think of something to get us back on track. "Where are you going to live, by the way? Are you moving back in with your parents?"

He shook his head, the gravel crunched beneath the tires as he steered the car onto the parking lot of one of Port Angeles more swanky restaurants. "I've already got an option on a two-bedroom apartment near the hospital." He chuckled, shutting the engine. "I think I'd go mad if I moved back in with my mom and dad. It's already bad enough as it is when I'm down there for a few weeks during the summer."

"I know what you're saying." I chuckled, thankful to have our former, relaxed atmosphere back again. "I couldn't imagine moving back in with my parents!"

Helping me safely out of the car and to the front door (which was no small achievement considering the shoes Rose had put me in), our conversation was put on pause until we were settled at our cozy corner table with our menus in front of us.

"So," he started, flipping his menu shut after making his choice. "How about you? Business is doing great from what I've heard."

I nodded, my pride sounding through in my voice as I spoke about my shop. "We're at that point right now, where I'm debating whether or not to hire extra help to keep me from going insane. I just haven't decided whether or not to go for someone in the bakery, someone in the shop exclusively, or someone who can do both." It was probably going to be the latter, though, since for starters I was still too much of a control freak to have some minion trailing around my bakery all day and secondly, Rose needed some help as well.

"You're still doing everything alone?" His head was cocked, his eyes inquisitive as he listened to me; the fact that I had his full attention made me feel more bold as I leaned slightly forward, offering him what I hoped was a spectacular view of my boobs.

"I have Rose, of course," I explained as I made another attempt at nipping sexily from my wineglass just like I'd seen Rose do when she was on the prowl, "and when I'm really swamped I usually call Marcus to see if he has a decent student lined up to help me…but yes, other than that, it's just me."

"I can imagine that must be lonely sometimes," he mused, swirling his wine around in his glass.

I had to wait until the waiter had gone again after taking our orders to answer his question, which gave me some time to think about my reply. "Sometimes," I thought aloud, thinking about how making all the decisions did, eventually, come down on me no matter how much Rose had been my rock. "I miss having someone at home I can just unload onto when I get back after a frustrating day in the bakery, but I guess I've gotten used to it over the years." I shrugged, not wanting to sound like a charity case. "I have to admit I also kind of like help with the decision making stuff."

"I can imagine," he smiled deviously. "You're the queen of your own empire; nobody to give you orders or to boss you around. I can't even imagine what that must feel like."

"You're forgetting Rose works at my shop." I chuckled, remembering some of the times where it had seemed more like I was working for her than the other way around. "I do sometimes wish I had more time to spend with Charlie, though. It's not like she's neglected or anything but sometimes…" I sighed wistfully. "My mom was always there when I got home from school, waiting for me with milk and cookies to hear about my day." I shrugged, taking another sip from my wine. "I'm there as well but nine times out of ten, I'm so busy doing my job that I can't really give her my full attention."

"You're setting a great example for her, though." Edward's hand reached out for mine over the table. "If she wants to know how to grow into a strong, independent woman that we want her to be, all she has to do is look at her mom."

I blushed, my blood pulsing a little stronger through my veins at his praise. "I'd prefer it if she didn't follow in my footsteps _every_ step of the way, though," I joked. "Fortunately, she's still too much of a tomboy to even think about boys as anything else. She's great at accomplishing whatever scheme she's concocting at the time."

"Thank God!" Edward chuckled along with me.

We spent most of our dinner trading stories about our daughter; meaning that I talked while he listened, only to chip in a few times with stories from his summers and the things father and daughter got in to when they were together.

There was something lingering, though…

As we laughed and ate together, there was always an underlying tension in him; something that let me know there was more to this dinner party than just a chat among friends who also happened to be parents of the most kickass, unique human being on the planet. At first, I hoped it might have been that he was as eager to move forward again with me as I was with him, but as the evening advanced and all my clever hints were met with silence, I was starting to have doubt.

"Bella," he finally spoke, waiting until I'd scooped up the final bite of a _tarte tatin_ that I knew I would have pulled off better. "I have something I want to discuss with you…something you should know before I move out here."

The silence hung heavily over the table as I swallowed. _This is going to be bad. I can just feel it_. "Okay." _Let's have it, before I lose my nerve and throw up my expensive dinner before he's even paid the bill._

Clearing his throat, his eyes never met mine as he spoke the words that would shatter my all over again. "I met someone….someone _important_."

* * *

_**Thoughts?**_


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

_**LadySharkey1 rocks my world by being the most amazing, kick-ass beta I could ever imagine. **_

**Chapter 3**

_Apparently I did need a plan_

_Clearing his throat, his eyes never met mine as he spoke the words that would shatter my all over again. "I met someone….someone important." _

I sat there blinking like an idiot, as slowly my mind added two and two together.

What the… _what_?

A _girlfriend_?

Wow! Talk about an attack from the leftfield!

"Y-you have a g-girlfriend?" I finally managed to stammer, trying not to let on how much of a blow to my poor heart this little bit of news caused. Inwardly, though, I was fighting to keep it together as I could feel everything I'd ever hoped for over all these years—everything I'd worked towards—crumble to rubble.

"I know, right?" He chuckled, apparently mistaking my broken-heartedness for mere surprise. "It happened totally unexpectedly. I mean, I've known Angela for years—she lived in the same building as me during sophomore year—but I never expected anything like this to happen between the two of us until a couple of months ago when it just…happened, I guess."

"That's…" Unfortunate? A fucking disaster? "Great." I managed to squeak, my hand trembling like hell as I lifted my water glass to my lips. If he hadn't been able to pick up on my disappointment before, then surely he must have heard the sound of my heart shattering into a million pieces, right?

Well, apparently not because instead of sympathy or him shutting the fuck up out of pity with the poor woman who'd given birth to his child, he nodded with the blind enthusiasm of a man in love. "It was as much of a surprise to us as it is to you and it's why I haven't really told anyone out here about us. We wanted to be really sure…you know? But now? It's like…nothing I've ever felt before."

And just like that, shit got even worse.

Nothing he'd _ever_ felt before?

Really?

Then what the hell was I?

Had I been just a passing crush gone terribly wrong in a long line of insignificant stupid women who'd fallen for his charm?

He told me I'd always have his heart, damn it!

"Wow," I managed to repeat; the three letter word just about summed it up. "Won't it…I mean…Isn't it going to be hard now that you're moving back home?"

_Please say you'll dump her, or even the other way around, so I can be there for you—all loving and understanding—when you return to me. Then we—well, you, obviously—can fall in love again. Just as long as you're going to be moving back home a single man._

He nodded, though his nod wasn't so much a confirmation of my statement than a confession of some sort of guilt. "That's exactly why I wanted to talk to you tonight."

Again, a solid twenty seconds passed before I could reply. "You…you want my help?" What did I look like? The Dalai fucking Lama? Did he really expect me to drive the spike even further into my heart by helping him get laid?

"Not exactly," he spoke, momentarily putting my mind at rest. That was…until he went on. "I know that with me moving back, we're going to have to revise our schedule with Charlie and…"

I frowned as he let his voice trail off, his obvious nerves did not promise anything good. And what was he getting at anyway? "I guess so," I hedged. "I mean, you're going to be working a lot and have irregular hours at the hospital, right? We're going to have to think of some way to have you and Charlie spending time together without completely throwing her life into chaos."

He nodded. "We'll work something out. But…" He licked his lips, his hand running its trademark course through his hair as an added sign of his nervousness. "What I'm trying to say is that Angela's going to be around as well and I want…It's important to me that she and Charlie kind of get to know each other."

_What? _"You want to bring your girlfriend around our daughter?" I should have seen this coming. Still, knowing he wanted to bring that hussy around our girl somehow made me blind with an irrational anger so strong that it was a relief the waiter had already picked up all the knifes from our table. "Don't you think that's a bit premature? I mean, you just told me it's only been a few months."

"I know it may sound sudden," Edward defended himself, sensibly holding his hands up in surrender as I continued to glare at him. "And I know I'm kind of dropping a bomb on you but it's not like this is just an infatuation or something." He chuckled uncomfortably. "Angela and I have known each other for years, even if we've only been going out a short while, so it's not like I'm bringing just anyone around our girl."

"Oh." And just like that, my heart sank even further south.

"This is really serious, Bella," he went on, the look in his eyes empathizing his words. "And before it gets even more serious, I need her to establish a relationship with the most perfect little girl in my life. It's important to me that the two of them get along, you know?"

I sighed, burying my head in my hands. _This. Can't. Be. Happening._

"You know Charlie like no one else does," Edward droned on in the meantime, apparently still oblivious to my distress. _Jeez, could men really be that dense?_ "Do you have any ideas of how we can introduce the two of them without it getting too confusing for her?"

Okay.

That was _way_ worse than helping him get laid. Was I supposed to stand by and offer up my daughter?

What was next? Charlie wanting to call that two-faced whore that stole my man, 'Mommy'?

"I don't know…" I muttered, knowing I was supposed to be a grown up here as well as a responsible, rational parent. Acting like a woman scorned was only going to have me ending up hurting the one person I wanted to protect above everyone else. "We've never done anything like this before."

"That's why I'm coming to you." Edward nodded, leaning his tall frame a little closer. With his eyes so serious and his face so open and honest as he asked for my help, he looked so beautiful…it just wasn't fair. None of this was fair and I was half expecting to wake up from some terrible nightmare…but I wouldn't. Instead he just went on. "I want us to work together in this, all three of us. You've always been my best friend, Bella, which is why we've been able to make this work no matter how crazy things have been at times." He smiled the smile of a man who had no idea of the hurt his words caused as he grabbed my hand. "I _know_ we will make this work just like I know you and Angela will become great friends."

_Don't hold your breath, buddy! _I swallowed, trying to get rid of the bitterness in my mouth before I opened it and the words tumbled out. "I'm happy for you, Edward. You're right. We'll work this out."

_I just hope we don't have to include Angela for very long._

Our drive back to Forks was awkward as hell; Edward was off in his own little happy world of new love, while I was still stewing in my anger and disappointed over the date that had turned into an unparalleled disaster.

And I guess it wasn't even a date to begin with.

It wasn't until I'd gotten home and saw Esme—who'd brought Charlie home to sleep in her own bed—and watched Edward go back to their home that the real panic started to set in.

What was I going to do?

Part of me wanted to lock the door behind me and keep it chained and barricaded for as long as needed to keep Edward and his hussy at bay.

I slid down a wall as my body curled around itself in protection as I quietly wept in the hallway. I'd always know there was a risk he'd move on before I was ready to rekindle our relationship, but the reality of it just sucked.

It was too much.

I allowed myself fifteen minutes to cry, and then managed to pull myself together again. Wiping the tears away, I climbed the stairs towards the apartment, my hand clenched around the banister so tightly that the pain it caused managed to slightly dull the ache I felt elsewhere by the time I made it to the top.

I knew, deep down inside, that this was all my fault. If only I hadn't pushed him away all those years ago we might still be together.

None of this would have happened.

But what was I supposed to do with this new information? Stand by and watch him build his life with her or put up one hell of a fight to drive that bitch away?

Looking at my little girl sleeping so peacefully in her own bed, I knew I already knew my answer.

I was a mom first. Charlie's happiness was all that really mattered to me and if that meant burying my heart someplace where I could ignore it and pretend nothing about our situation was shitty at all, I had to do it. Charlie loved her dad and she deserved to spend more time with him without me around. When we broke up, Edward and I had made a promise to each other that no matter what happened, we'd never let Charlie get caught up in our problems or make her feel guilty about spending time with either one of us.

Well, I supposed it was the time to test the strength of that promise.

I had to make this work for Charlie's sake and for the sake of my own sanity. But as I lay awake that night and the panic started to turn into fear, it was starting to get harder and harder to see the right way through this infested swamp of squashed hopes.

What if I played my part of the dutiful co-parent and Charlie would grow to like Angela more than she liked me?

What if she wanted to live at Edward's?

The thought of that alone—my baby girl not being safely tucked up in her little bed at night or not coming running down the stairs in the mornings to eat her fresh chocolate croissant with me at the big table in the bakery—made me have to jump out of my bed, my legs barely developing enough speed to make it to the toilet in time.

No. I wasn't going to lose my daughter.

It wouldn't happen.

He wouldn't let it happen.

Or would he?

After all…he'd once promised me he'd never love another girl than me. What was his promise that we were in this together—the two of us and Charlie—really worth?

I guessed that was another promise that was going to be tested.

I got up at five-thirty in the morning, having already seen the three and four on the clock as I lay awake twisting, turning, and imagining one horrible scenario after the next. I had to get going anyway since it was going to be a busy day in the bakery with two birthday cakes and a varied array of sweet and savory pastries for a hospital function in addition to the usual stuff we sold in the bakery.

Scratching my head as I lazily made it down the stairs, I began to consider the idea of really hiring an extra member of staff instead of merely talking about it. It would give me more time and flexibility with Charlie as well as keep me from getting burned out. I'd have the check it with Rose, who kept the books for me, but my business was doing well enough that we could afford an extra person. So what was I waiting for?

I smirked, starting the mixer as I added the ingredients I'd already measured out the previous day. If I was going to take someone on, it would definitely have to be someone from outside of town. Forks was reasonably starved for anyone that had a true talent for pastry, so bringing someone in would be best. I made a mental note to call Marcus, my mentor at the Port Angeles culinary college, to ask if he had anyone in mind to help me out permanently.

By the time Charlie came running down the stairs, her eyes shining with carefree happiness, I'd composed myself enough to act as if nothing had happened as we sat down to eat breakfast. I even managed to smile as she told me about the things her day would bring and the play date she had lined up with Alastair Brown, a kid who'd recently moved into our neighborhood and shared her fondness for the great outdoors.

"We're going to look for water bugs in the stream behind his house," she announced, already excited by the prospect of all sorts of creepy crawlers that could be found.

"Just be careful, okay," I warned her, knowing how reckless she could sometimes get when she was on the chase. "And I want a grownup with you at all times. No going off into the woods or near the stream on your own, okay?"

"Fine!" she huffed, sending me a death glare as she stuffed the last of her fresh ham and cheese croissant into her mouth. "You're picking me up before dinner, right?"

I nodded. "I'll call Mrs. Brown to set up a time." _And to warn her again of the little hurricane that's going to tear through her backward_, I mentally added. "Now, go brush your teeth and pack your bag so I can walk you to school."

As I watched her stomp off again, I quickly finished a few things and set up for when I would be back before walking my kid to school; the fresh air made me feel better as we walked the short distance to Forks Elementary while she droned on about bugs and other little creatures I'd never stopped to look at until my daughter developed an uncanny fascination for all things creepy.

She really was a uniquely different girl and one I was so proud of, even if she'd turn my hair grey before its time. You couldn't get her in a dress to save her life and dolls and other girly playthings had never interested her but give her a good, smelly rock pool and a pair of rubber boots and she was one happy kid. No matter how clean and fresh I'd have her when I delivered her to school every day, she'd come back caked in mud and with her hair in a complete state of anarchy on top of her head, often decorated with leaves and branches of whatever shrubbery she'd explored that day.

She was a true child of Forks; my little nymph of the forest.

My miracle.

By the time I made it back, Rose was already bustling around in the shop, arranging the little cakes and pastries I'd made before onto trays and serving the first few customers their breakfast. I smiled at her as I went into the back after exchanging a few quick words with the people I knew, which just about meant everyone in the shop.

It made me feel proud knowing the people in town were eating my food and enjoyed it enough to keep coming back. It meant I'd made something of myself when everyone told me I'd fail—or at least expected me to. In the two years since I'd taken over the shop, business had slowly grown from just the local people to the ones outside town; the reputation of my skills grew as more people got to sample it.

It was time to take the next step and grow, both because it was my wish and to stave off the competition of the shop that had just opened its doors in Port Angeles. A shop run by my arch enemy and former classmate, Mike Newton, who'd made it pretty clear that he was out to ruin me.

Like I needed more drama in my life.

"Oh, shit."

I looked up from my mixer, looking into Rose's big, compassionate eyes. "It went badly, didn't it?"

I sighed, scraping some more vanilla into the mixture as I watched the tiny brown flakes disappear into the mixture. "He's found someone else."

"Asshole!" Rose plopped a bit of chocolate, laid out to be turned into a ganache, into her mouth. "So who's the skank I need to cut?"

"Stand down, Rose," I chuckled bitterly. "He's happy. What can I do?"

"Fight, for starters," she scolded me. "Man! If you needed a plan before, now you _really_ need one."

"I don't." I sighed defeated, shutting down the mixer. "I don't want to grow bitter and resent him from moving on when I was too cowardly to pursue him in the first place…I don't want to drag my daughter into a fight."

"Then don't." Rose's eyes breathed fire as she rounded on me. "There are plenty of ways to make the jackass regret ever putting his dick into another woman without dragging Charlie into it." She paused. "And you know that already, Isabella Swan. The only question is whether or not you're prepared to battle."

"I don't know," I whispered, my throat constricted as the first of my tears started to fall.

"Then make up your damn mind," she snapped, "because if you're going to just sit here and let shit happen, sooner or later he's going to end up marrying that bitch and slipping beyond your reach. Do you want that?"

For the first time in hours, my fight returned; the prospect of losing him forever—and maybe even my daughter into the bargain—making me angry beyond belief. "No."

"Good," Rose nodded, pulling her little notepad from her apron. "Then let's get to business."

_**Thoughts?**_


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

_**LadySharkey1 rocks my world by being the most amazing, kick-ass beta I could ever imagine. **_

* * *

**Chapter 4**

_Meeting the bitch…ahem, his new girlfriend_

"When is he moving back again?" Pensively, my mother stirred the huge amount of sugar resting at the bottom of her tea glass into her drink.

"Next week." I sighed, that same oppressive feeling—which had resided in my chest every time someone mentioned Edward and his impending move back—flared again. "He's been out here a lot, though, since his job at the hospital has already started."

"But that _girl_ is still in Seattle," Mom groaned, her lips pursing into disgust as she mentioned 'the bitch that shall not me named' or 'Voldemary' as I'd taken to calling her in the privacy of my own mind. It was no surprise, but my mom and dad were firmly in Team Bella in all this.

"Yes," I nodded, not really feeling the urge to go into all that again, "but she'll be there for Alice's birthday later this afternoon."

In our wisdom, and with a sense of self-sacrificing I secretly prided myself in, Edward and I had decided to have the big introduction in a setting that would be as stress-free as possible for Charlie. With Alice's birthday party always being a wild chaos of family members and friends running around the house, it would take some of the weight of off of Charlie meeting Voldemary for the first time. It would seem less forced than if we set up some sort of appointment for it to happen.

Or so we hoped.

Since the day was upon us, though, I was starting to dread it more and more since not only would my daughter be meeting the, until then, faceless floozy for the first time, so would I.

And let's just say that I had no desire to come face to face with my replacement.

"I hope Dad brings Charlie home soon," I sighed, glancing at the clock. "I still have to put the finishing touches on the cake and God knows what Charlie will look like when they get back. I won't have _that girl_ thinking I've raised my kid to be some kind of muddy half-savage." Even if it was partly true, though she was the most beautiful, well-behaved little savage in the land.

"You know those two forget about everything when they're off into their own little world." Mom chuckled, filling up my coffee. "I'm sure he'll have her home in time, though." Saturday mornings were 'Charlie-mornings'. While I was busy in the bakery, my dad would pick her up and the two of them would spend some time together, which usually meant he took her fishing or they would go off on one of their 'adventure trips' in the woods behind my parents' house.

They both loved it and the stories Charlie brought home when her granddad delivered her back in the afternoon always made me feel a little less guilty about spending half of my weekend in the bakery when I could have spent some time with her. And that day had been no different, no matter how the prospect of the dreaded meeting loomed over me.

Edward had taken her out to dinner at the local diner earlier that week to tell her about his new girlfriend. I'd been on pins and needles while they were away; my nails bitten to nothing more than painful stubs and my stomach protesting even though there was nothing in it as my eyes stayed glued to the clock while my mind tried to imagine what they would be doing at that time.

I didn't notice anything different about her when he dropped Charlie off again later that night, much to my relief. She seemed to be taking it in stride, though with someone who could be so inside her own head at times as Charlie was, it was hard to tell.

Hell, I daresay she was taking it a whole lot better than _I_ was.

"How are _you_ holding up, sweetheart?" Mom asked, pulling me out of my thoughts as she placed her hands on top of mine in a loving motherly gesture. "I know this has to be so hard for you."

"It is." I shrugged, taking a sip from my coffee. "But what can I do? I can't forbid him from falling in love again or bringing his new girlfriend around our daughter. I mean, I was the one who broke things off between us in the first place, and over the past couple of years I've never tried to win him back before. Sure, I had a plan all along but he didn't know that, did he?" I sighed, my throat closing as the overwhelming feeling of being powerless snuck back upon me. "So yeah…I kinda have myself to blame for the shitty mess I'm in now. The only thing I can do is make sure I end up being the only one hurt by all of this and disguise it all as best as I can."

"My poor baby." Mom had tears in her eyes as she pulled me to her chest, my own tears fell as I breathed in her scent. It felt good to be the one who was comforted for a change, instead of always having to stay strong.

"It's just not _fair_, Mom," I sniffed. "Why couldn't he have waited for me?"

"I know, Bella." She sighed, running her hand through my hair. "Life is hardly ever fair and men are idiots sometimes. It takes them forever to see what's right in front of them."

"But will he ever see?" Sitting up, I dried my eyes, mindful of the fact that any minute, my dad and daughter would be running in through the back door.

"Let's hope that he does," she offered as we went back to quietly sipping our coffees; she with a sketchbook in front of her, me with the morning paper.

My parents were like that, both of them. They were fiercely loyal and loving towards me and Charlie but they also carried the family trait of loving the quiet as a means to speak their minds. Even my mom, who was eccentric on a good day and completely barking mad on a bad one, had always been the one who spoke her mind—particularly when her opinion wasn't wanted or socially acceptable—as opposed to my dad who was more of a gruff, quiet force. They were complete polar opposites; my artist mother and my stable police chief dad, but for the better part of thirty years they'd made things work between them.

They were my example of how things could work out in a relationship no matter what the circumstances. After all, my mom had been only a year older then I was when she became pregnant with me.

Before long, my father and little girl burst into the kitchen, both of them reeking of fish but wearing proud smiles as if they were a conquering army on a battlefield.

"Look, Mom!" my daughter cried, holding up a decent sized fish. "I've caught a big one!"

"And I had to catch _her_ or she would have fallen off the boat and gone swimming with the damn thing," Dad joked, as he helped her carry the fish over to the kitchen sink where mom immediately set to work cleaning it. She knew how much I hated to do the dirty work myself.

"Looks like the two of you had fun," I chuckled, scrunching my nose at the fishy smell as he sat next to me, both our eyes on Charlie as she sat on the counter, captivated as mom introduced her into the art of gutting a fish.

"It's always fun when she's around," he grinned, "even if she scares the fish away with all her talking." He turned serious again, his voice lower as he went on. "I tried to get her to open up a little about the girlfriend situation while we were up there."

I nodded, my throat closing with nerves. "And?"

"From what I see, the poor thing doesn't really know _what_ to think right now." He sighed deeply. "It's just too foreign a situation for her to really make up her mind. She's excited to meet this new friend of her dad´s, though."

"That's what I was thinking as well." I nodded, my eyes traveling back to my mom and Charlie, who were wrapping up the fish for us to take home. More than anything I hoped everything would go well that afternoon. I knew Edward would never have went ahead with this if she had taken the news badly and with both Alice and Esme on hand to make everything run as smoothly as possible, we had this situation covered as best as we could.

"Come on, baby girl," I urged my daughter, grabbing her hand as I helped her down from the counter. "Let's get you home and in the bathtub. We can't have you smelling like fish for Alice's birthday party."

"Do I have to, Mommy?" Charlie's face scrounged up in protest as she gave me the puppy-dog stare of a girl who really disliked baths.

"You really do stink, sweetie," I explained to her. "If you don't clean up, nobody will want to play with you at the party."

That, of course, changed her mind. Alice's birthday parties had always been her favorite—apart from her own, of course—since the presence of Alice's many friends pretty much guaranteed that my little tomboy would be the center of much attention, even if at times that attention would have been a little too 'girly' for her taste. Mostly for both Alice and her friends, having Charlie around meant that they had the perfect excuse to play with kids' toys again and pretend it was all for the sake of keeping my baby girl entertained when secretly they were having as much fun as she was.

She was excited in the car as we drove over to the Cullens', though I detected an underlying tension that made me, in turn, even more wary about the upcoming party. "You know what's going to happen, right?" I asked, wanting to be sure she was prepared and knew that there was no pressure.

"Do you mean about Daddy bringing his new girlfriend today?" she asked, drumming her nails against the dashboard.

"That's what I meant," I nodded while stealthily watching her like a hawk. "How do you feel about that?"

"It's okay, I guess." She shrugged. "I mean, he says she makes him happy and that's important, right? I just hope she'll like me."

"Oh, I bet she will, honey," I smiled, reaching behind me towards the back to grab her hand. "What's not to like about you? You're awesome!" I took a breath. "Look, I don't want you to feel stressed out because of all of this. There is no pressure; none at all. If you want this to happen it's okay but if you don't, your daddy and I aren't going to be upset with you or anything. We just want you to be happy, alright?"

She nodded, some of the tension slipping away from her scrawny little form. "Okay."

"Good." I nodded, taking another deep, steadying breath as I tried to rally myself for the event to come without showing it. "Now, it looks like they're not here yet. Do you want me to come get you when he arrives or do you want them to come looking for you?"

"Come get me," she picked, hopping from the car almost the second after I'd switched off the engine, her excitement back again as she grabbed the present we'd picked out for Alice while I gently carefully picked up the cake from the other side. "Oh, and Mom?" she asked, pausing beside the car.

Struggling with the heavy cake I answered, "Yes, honey?"

"Will you get a boyfriend now, too?"

I almost dropped the cake from sheer shock. "Maybe," I managed to wheeze out. "But you know…you can't buy boyfriends in the store or anything. It has to happen on its own, I mean, you have to find someone you like enough for him to be your boyfriend. Who knows? Maybe it will happen."

"Good," she nodded, skipping next to me as we headed up to the front door, "because I want you to be as happy as Dad is and not be all alone when he's got a friend to keep him company now."

_Don't hold your breath, baby girl._ I could feel the tears pricking at the corners of my eyes again but I fought them away, not wanting her to see them. "I will never be alone, sweetheart. I have you, don't I?"

"Always," she assured me, grabbing my hand as we waited in front of the heavy green door leading into the Cullens' home.

The minute her grandmother opened the door, she was lost; running around the house with Alice and some of the other kids her age before disappearing into the backyard. I only managed to make her stay long enough to wish a happy birthday to her aunt, give her the gift, and let her know there would be hell to pay if she got herself all dirty.

Again.

"This has to be hard for you," Esme spoke, her voice soft and motherly as she came to stand beside me. "Please know that I have so much respect for you for doing this when I know it would be so easy for you to act differently."

"Thanks, Esme." Without turning, my hand found hers, my eyes fighting the tears as I watched my daughter running around the lawn. _Please, God, let me get through this day_.

For the hour or so that followed, I managed to distract myself by eating snacks and looking wistfully at the non-drivers as they indulged in wine and beer while I had to stick to juice because I had to drive back home again.

And then, suddenly, they were there; all smiles as he helped her from the car and wrapped his arm around her as they made their way up the front steps, her laughter tinkling out like little bells as he said something funny.

I hated her already.

I mean, I got that she'd taken home the main prize—_Edward_—but did she have to be so damn perfect at the same time?

It hardly seemed fair.

She was one of those girls who looked fucking astonishing without even trying; her flawless skin and tall, lean body looked like they belonged on the runway while her long, sleek light brown hair and golden brown eyes only perfected the whole picture.

As I said: not fair.

"I'll go get Charlie," I muttered to no one in particular before fleeing the scene as Esme and Carlisle greeted their son and his new girlfriend. It didn't escape my notice, though, how much more warm his dad was in his welcome to _her _than he'd ever been to me. _Why wouldn't he be? She fits right into his perfect little picture. Am I even surprised?_

By the time I'd managed to coax my daughter down from the tree house she was playing in, inspected her for leaves, dirt and other evidence of the great outdoors, and brought her back into the house, I was back in control; my face craftily schooled into the same look I reserved for difficult customers as I guided her into the kitchen, where her dad and Voldemary were already waiting for her.

Edward had a strange look on his face. Was he nervous, too? I was worried for my daughter, for me, and for what all this meant for us as a family. If I was being honest, I didn't want to do this. I didn't want to be there. And it was _all my fault_ for lying to him.

"You must be Charlotte," Angela spoke, her smile warm and friendly as she reached out for Charlie's hand. "Your daddy has told me so much about you."

"He told me about you, too," Charlie answered, taking her hand while still holding onto mine with the other. "Do you really work at the animal shelter?"

She nodded. "Only in my free time, though. During the week I'm a Kindergarten teacher."

_Just shoot me now. A kindergarten teacher who rescues cute, furry animals on the weekends? _

_What is this shit? How could I possibly hate her? I mean, she rescues animals for crying out loud!_

"I like animals, too!" Charlie beamed, her hand relaxing in mine as she found common ground with the stranger. "A few weeks ago we went to the stables and I got to ride a horse. I really want to take lessons now but Mommy says I have to wait a couple of weeks to see if I really want to."

"That's probably a smart thing to do," Voldemary nodded, taking her attention off my kid only long enough to say the briefest of hellos to me_. Bitch!_ "You know? If you like animals, and your mommy and daddy say it's okay, I could take you to the shelter one weekend and you can help me care for all the animals."

"Can I?" Her eyes grew huge as she leaned towards the intruder, all of her hesitance out of the window at the prospect of cute, furry animals. "That would be so awesome! Alice has a rabbit in a little cage in the backyard that has huge ears. Do you want to see it?"

And just like that, she dropped my hand and grabbed Angela's, all but pulling my replacement out of the kitchen as she prattled on about animals and how she wanted to grow up and be a biologist. The look on Edward's face as he followed after them—equal parts proud and relieved—only drove the stake further into my chest.

Grabbing hold of the counter, I tried to breathe past the pain and erase the thoughts that had slipped through the hold I had on my brain as I had felt my little girl let go.

Thoughts of feeling betrayed by own daughter, as if I'd been secretly hoping for a different outcome.

And feelings of jealousy over a man who no longer wanted me.

They were wrong. I mean, why should I feel jealous when I had been doing the right thing? Even if it felt wrong, it would have been even worse if I would have poisoned Charlie's mind against his new girlfriend or tried to keep her from meeting him. I had set out to do this; to make sure their introduction would run smoothly. Then why did it hurt so much to see her run off with the two of them and forget I even existed?

Because of just that.

For a moment, I felt what it would be like to have my daughter pick them over me; the happy little nuclear family instead of the single mom who would always struggle to balance parenthood against earning enough money to keep up with the bills.

_No, Bella! Don't go there. _

My grip on the counter intensified as I fought myself back from the ledge; battling the thoughts of letting go and happy little families in which my shape had suddenly taken a different form.

No, I wasn't going to give up. She would have to kill me before she could sink her claws into my daughter, and as for Edward…we'd see who took the glory from that particular battlefield.

Because I most certainly wasn't going down without putting up a fight to bring _my _family back together.

* * *

_**Thoughts? **_


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

_**LadySharkey1 rocks my world by being the most amazing, kick-ass beta I could ever imagine. **_

* * *

**Chapter 5**

_The drama continues…_

And so it began…

The rest of the afternoon was just as much a test of my strength as the beginning had been; with Angela rising so perfectly to the occasion, it didn't take long for half the people in the house to fall in love with her. The other half was still too young to take notice.

Which, of course, meant that all that afternoon I had to hear about how perfect she and Edward were together, or dodge the looks of pity I got from people who knew—or at least suspected—that I still had feelings for him.

Oh, and did I mention she was the daughter of a minister? Because apparently the disgustingly perfect girlfriend could not get any _more_ perfect than she already was. She just had to be the daughter of a friggin' priest, and not one who took a nosedive into the collection plate every now and then or who'd get caught drooling over the choir boys. Nope, apparently Voldemary's dad was a real standup kind of guy who helped the poor, opened his home to the needy, and also inspired his brood to give something back to the community.

And she was so nice and humble about it too! Laughing at all the appropriate moments and helping Esme out when she seemed to be struggling but, most of all, playing the part of the shy-yet-totally-devoted girlfriend to a _T_. Even Alice liked her, when only a week ago she'd sworn to me she was going to hate the woman.

But then again, it was almost impossible to hate her. So could I really blame her?

Hell, if she hadn't stolen the one man from me that I could never give up, I might have liked her as well. Being as things were, though, I sank further and further into that festering swamp of jealousy and resentment I did when any woman in my situation would have done: I plastered a smile onto my face, sat my butt down with the rest of the ass-kissing traitors and pretended nothing in the world could hurt me.

Least of all, the very woman who was causing me pain like I couldn't imagine…

Did I mention I hated the bitch with the passion of a thousand burning suns?

Still, I had to be the bigger person and step back, allowing everyone to be happy and move on with their lives. It was time to admit defeat and realize that by waiting to make something of my life—something that would be worthy in the eyes of his dad and, most of all, in my own damn eyes—I had waited too long.

And now he was gone.

Needing some space, I made sure Charlie was being cared for before wandering off into the woods; the same fallen tree Edward and I had sat on when we'd made the decision to keep the baby, serving as the perfect spot to think…clear my head…come to terms with my mistakes. Part of me wanted to scream really loudly—to hell with worrying over who might hear me—or at least destroy some part of the unsuspecting shrubbery, but when I opened my mouth, nothing came out. The shock of how the afternoon had turned out still rendered me completely and utterly useless.

Rose was going to kick my ass when she found out.

Whatever. Like I cared.

It might not have been my party but I could still fucking cry if I wanted to.

"I knew I'd find you here."

Looking up, I saw the last person I wanted to see at that moment.

Okay, maybe the second to last; he was still better than _her_.

I sighed, trying not to appear too bitter. "Edward."

"Mom wanted me to come get you," he announced, looking every bit as ill-at-ease as I felt. "They are about to cut the cake and…shit! I know this has to be fucking hard for you but I wanted you to know how amazing you are for making sure that meeting went off the way it did."

Pressing my lips into something that might have resembled a smile, I rose up from my mossy seat. "Thanks."

"Fuck, I'm so sorry…I'm an ass for dumping all of this on you. It couldn't have been easy." He sighed, and my not-completely-rational anger spiked as he blocked my escape.

"It wasn't." I snapped, gnashing my teeth to keep myself from lashing out. _I'm trying to be the bigger person here, jackass. Don't make this even harder for me!_

"She'll never try to replace you, Bella, you have to know that," he insisted, taking a little step closer when all I wanted was for him to be miles away. "There's no one who could ever be her mom, but you."

"Damn straight," I snapped, crossing my arms in front of my chest—both to protect myself from falling apart and because it was colder than I thought out there. "Now, we better get going? As you were saying, they're about to cut the cake."

He sighed, looking like he wasn't done saying whatever the hell he'd come out there to say. "Fine…it's just…what I wanted to ask was..." He scrunched up his face as he ran a hand through his hair. "What I came out here to ask was if it was okay for Charlie to spend next weekend at my place."

It wasn't like I hadn't expected it but still, it came sooner than I had imagined. "In Forks?"

Nodding softly he spoke, "I'm moving on Tuesday, so I'll be all settled in by then and I'd like to spend some time with our girl before work gets too busy again."

"That seems…logical," I answered, my voice thin with anxiety as I barely kept myself from asking the one question burning on my lips. _Will she be there?_

"Angela will be driving up late on Saturday after she finishes her shift at the shelter," he answered my unspoken question. "She's eager to spend some more time with Charlie as well, even if that's going to be hard with her still stuck in Seattle for the next couple of weeks."

"She's not moving with you?" I asked, trying not to feel relieved until I actually had my confirmation.

Shaking his head he chuckled. "Nah, it's still too early for us to be moving in together and apart from that, her dad probably wouldn't like us sharing a house when we're not married, even if he's kind of relaxed about that whole thing. She'll be heading out here in two weeks, just before she starts her job."

"Oh, great." I wasn't sure whether to be relieved that Voldemary wouldn't be a permanent fixture for a few weeks yet or just feel nauseous at the prospect of my baby girl spending the weekend with that conniving too-damn-nice-to-be-real seductress.

"So you're okay with it?" he asked, his eyes shining with hope and his step bouncing with a little more spring as he walked beside me.

How could I deny him anything when he was looking like that? I mean, he was like freaking _Puss in Boots_! Sighing, I shrugged. "Yeah, I guess I'm okay with it. It's going to be a busy weekend for me anyway, with the job interviews scheduled on Saturday afternoon on top of all the normal work."

"You're going to do it, then?" he asked; the pride in his eyes making me glow on the inside even in spite of everything else I was feeling. "Get more help at the shop?"

"Yeah, I finally bit the bullet and called Marcus on Monday," I admitted. "It's just too busy right now for me to keep up with everything going on, no matter how much my inner control freak wants to stay in…well, control."

"It will work out," he assured me, his insistence calming me even if it was based on nothing. "I know you, so I know everything will be perfect in the end."

I wishedI had his confidence but then again, how would he have known that the only outcome for me that could ever be called 'perfect' was one where he'd dump Voldemary and would come running back to me.

And somehow I doubted that it was the perfect scenario in his mind at that moment.

The following week dragged. It wasn't for a lack of work to do—because there was plenty—but mostly because I just couldn't get my head out of the funk it had landed itself in. Deep down, I sure as hell knew that I had to move on and even if I didn't, I had all my friends reminding me.

Still, as with so many things, knowing was so much easier than _doing_.

Edward called on Tuesday night to let me know the move had gone great. So, Wednesday after school, Charlie and I headed over to his new apartment with a houseplant picked out by my darling daughter and his favorite dessert of banoffee éclairs to find out how he'd settled in.

Because that was what friends did, right?

It was awkward to say the least. A couple of weeks ago it would have been a perfect evening; him showing us around the place as he talked excitedly about his work at the hospital and being back in his hometown before settling on the sofa with a cup of coffee and our sticky, yummy treats. And to some extent, it still was. We were still the same people, liking the same stuff and laughing about the same jokes.

Only, things were different.

He wasn't _mine _anymore; the feminine touches so clearly visible around the apartment hadn't been left by me and in his conversation, she came up so often that by the end of our visit, I wasn't sure I was going to keep my éclair down.

My only comfort was that throughout all of this Charlie was still blissfully unaware. She was so excited to have her daddy back in town where she could visit him whenever she liked that, by the end of the evening, I almost had to pry those two apart with a crowbar or I'd never get her to bed at a decent time.

On our way back she was already counting the days until the weekend—so eager to get to sleep in the new bedroom her dad had decorated for her—that it took hours to get her to sleep.

And before I knew it, it was Friday, and instead of listening for her footsteps rushing up to the back door and her mouth running a mile a minute telling me all about her day, my afternoon went by undisturbed and far too quiet.

Well, about as quiet as it could be with Lauren Mallory picking up the impossible birthday cake for her son—the impossible birthday cake I had managed to craft perfectly with my own two hands, by the way—and complaining about how the balloons were too red and the basket I'd crafted out of woven fondant around a cake base wasn't yellow enough.

Bitch.

My mood lifted slightly when I got a call from Charlie at about seven that night; her happiness over being picked up from school by her dad when he was still in hospital scrubs was so great I had to keep the phone a little bit further away from my ears than usual to keep me from going deaf.

It was great to listen to her voice as she told me all about the plans they'd made that and I was happy she was having a great time with Edward.

But still, the house was too damn quiet.

On Saturday I hardly had time to think, let alone wallow in self-pity. With regular shop sales always higher on the weekends and, on top of that a few orders to fill, I had my work cut out getting everything ready in time for the customers to pick up their sweets. And then, just when I was ready to get a breather, my first job interview walked in.

The first one, a guy named Embry Call, looked good enough on paper: top of the class at culinary school and with a shining recommendation from one of Port Angeles' top pastry chefs. But that was just it. He was cocky. A little too cocky for someone whose only achievement was a successful internship at a local restaurant.

And he was a little too 'looky' as well.

By the end, his slightly demeaning way of referring to my shop—my blood, sweat and tears—as a _little cake shop_ only made it so much easier to let him know not to hold his breath for that call back.

Enter prospect number two: Paul Lahote.

Just like the first one, his resume' made him seem eager to work with me, which was definitely a plus. However, as I set him to the simple task of baking a cupcake, just to see how he was in the kitchen, I soon found out that he had a bit of a temper.

Well, more like he made Gordon Ramsay look like an adorable little kitten.

When he'd smashed one of my favorite mixing bowls into the sink just because it had offended him by not mixing his ingredients perfectly (when actually he hadn't measured out the right flour-to-butter-to-egg ratio, which was why the batter had been too runny to ever amount to a good cupcake) I'd seen enough and sent him packing.

Enter number three: a quiet, shy kid by the name of Quil Ateara.

And boy did he honor his name when he stood in front of me, shaking like a fucking leaf. It didn't exactly do him any good when he had to bake, since the spoon in his hand shook so much that the counter was a mess and there was more batter around the cupcake molds than actually inside. The end product tasted tolerable and he hadn't done anything to offend me so when he left, his resume definitely went on the 'maybe' pile.

Though I did have some doubts about how he'd hold up under the stress of having to bake one of Lauren Mallory's impossible cakes.

Poor boy would probably give himself a concussion from shaking so hard!

I was on the verge of turning into the Goldilocks of pastry chefs when, finally, candidate number four walked in looking refreshingly normal and relaxed.

Emmett McCarty. _Let's hope you'll deliver the goods._

His exterior was a little rough around the edges—your typical wrong-side-of-the-tracks kind of look with huge muscles and the tattoos on his arms—but his face was friendly and open and his manners were appealing if Rose's wide smile was anything to go on as she showed him in.

"So, what do you want me to do for you today?" he asked as he sat down. "Because I'm assuming this isn't just a friendly chat about baking."

I chuckled at his eagerness. "Not really, no. I'd like you to create a batch of cupcakes, using your own recipe and any decorations from my stock you'd like to add while I ask you a few questions. Is that okay with you?"

"Fine." He grinned, sitting back as he took stock of my bakery. "That's what I'm here for, isn't it?"

As he set to his job, I noticed his technique was flawless and his balance of ingredients spot on. And while his work was precise, it didn't take so much out of him that he wasn't able to answer questions or joke around about baking and some of the more interesting projects that had come our way.

"I always wanted to be a bricklayer when I was young but then, one day, I walked into the wrong class and here I am." His laughter echoed through the room, almost forcing me to join in with him. "I swear Mrs. Johnson, my sophomore home economics teacher, had a stroke when she saw my ass parked right there on the front bench, but as soon as we got to work, I was sold."

"And you never wanted to touch a brick again," I added, watching as his huge hands proved surprisingly nimble as they added all sorts of dainty decorations to his perfect cupcakes.

"Not unless it's made of cake," he replied, shrugging as he rifled through his portfolio, turning the page to reveal a cake that looked like it was built up out of Lego bricks. "I made that one for an assignment at school where we had to create the kind of cake we would have liked to eat, growing up."

"You have some real skill," I mused, looking at the flawless way the bricks, crafted out of little pieces of fondant, were stacked on top of each other. I knew then, that I'd made my choice and so I went with it, swallowing down the nerves as I continued. "I'd like to take you on for a two-week trial period. If things work out, you'll have a job here. If not—"

"No hard feelings," he chuckled. "Man, Ms. Swan. You move fast!"

"It's the only way to go," I shrugged, a little spark of joy igniting in me when the boy—because he was at least a good five years younger than I was, which totally justified me calling him a boy—started to clean up his own mess without me telling him to do so. I'd picked a good one there.

I took over closing the shop while Rose got him through the paperwork; her happiness at finding out I'd decided to hire Emmett not lost on me. Really, that woman was incorrigible! And while I thought Emmett might be a few years too young for her, I could see the two of them actually working out well, even if it would elevate my best friend to Queen Cougar status.

The rest of my weekend was too quiet, once again.

After closing the shop I spent another restless evening wondering how Charlie was doing with Edward and—_barf_—Voldemary, followed by a sleepless night in which my mind came up with all sorts of horrible scenarios.

The next day, not even the peace and quiet of uninterrupted baking experiments could lift my spirits and so, when Edward was late dropping Charlie off, my mood soured to toxic levels as I waited for the familiar sounds of his car wheels crunching along the gravel of the back parking lot.

"MOMMY!MOMMY!MOMMY!" Charlie cried, running out towards me as soon as the car had stopped, her eyes wide with excitement and her legs having difficulty keeping up with the rest of her. "You'll never believe what Daddy and Angela got me as an early Christmas present!"

"It's not Christmas for months!" I chuckled, my eyes finding Edward's slightly guilty face and conveying one single message: What. Did. You. Do?

"They got me riding lessons! You know? At the riding school we went to on our field trip?" She squealed, twirling in place in a gesture so uncommonly girly it made me smile in spite of my anger.

"That's so nice, sweetie!" I managed to gnash out, my smile so fake it hurt my cheeks. "Now how about you run upstairs and put your bag in your room and wash your hands? Dinner will be ready in ten minutes."

"I'm sorry, Bella," Edward was quick to apologize the minute our daughter was out of earshot. "I know this isn't exactly the ideal way to go about things, but Angela thought it would be a good way to bond with Charlie and…"

"And you gave her free reign?" I fumed, really trying to stay calm and not go off on him like a mad woman. "What were you thinking, Edward? What happened to talking these things through, as we agreed upon, before springing them on each other?"

"I know, I know." He held up his hands, looking horribly awkward with this situation. It was only in that moment that I realized he'd probably been as surprised with all of this as I had been.

Talk about friendly fire.

"Okay." I sighed, rubbing my face. "There's little we can do about it now, so we'd better make the most of it. What day are the lessons?"

"Wednesdays at five." He cringed, knowing this news would go over just as well as his initial announcement.

"I'm still stuck at the shop at that time," I warned, "and if hospital residencies are anything as dreadful as _Grey's Anatomy_ wants to make us believe, you'll be at work nine times out of ten as well, so how's she going to make it over to the stables?"

"We'll make it work," he promised, meaning he'd probably stick this on his mom or _she_ would be doing the honors.

Shaking my head, I flopped the dish towel I was still holding in my hands over my shoulder, my ears faintly picking up the noise of the cooking timer over the rustling of trees in the wind. "I'm not happy about this, Edward." I bit my lip. My anger and disappointment were hopefully clear enough for him to get the message. "Don't pull a stunt like this again."

"I won't." He hung his head. His demeanor reminded me of that time we'd spray painted our Biology project in the Cullens' garage and accidentally got paint on his dad's new car.

I felt almost sorry for him as he trudged back to his car and drove off; his shoulders were hunched and the grin I loved so much was complete absent as he waved goodbye. _Almost_ felt sorry, but then I remembered it was he who'd made this happen. Him and _her_.

I growled, slapping the towel at a non-existent enemy as I pounded up the stairs trying to get rid of my anger so that I could be happy and excited when I came face to face with my girl again.

This was all _that woman's_ fault.

She'd only been in town for what? A couple of hours and already she was messing up my life beyond belief.

That bitch was going down.

* * *

_**Thoughts?**_


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

_**LadySharkey1 rocks my world by being the most amazing, kick-ass beta I could ever imagine. **_

* * *

**Chapter 6**

_Made a big mistake. But hey...I was drunk!_

By six o'clock the following Friday, Rose must have had enough of my moping because as soon as the final customer had left the building, she stalked into the back—all five feet and nine inches of her—and stared me down. _I must admit, her bitch face is still a little intimidating after all these years._

"That's it," she snapped, huffing at my indifference as I finished cleaning up. "I've had it with you walking around the place like the world is coming to an end. I'm taking you out."

"Can't." I sighed, knowing she was right and that I had been slightly overdoing it on the 'depressed co-parent thing'. At the same time, I just couldn't pull myself out of the funk I'd landed in. "We've got customers coming in bright and early tomorrow, remember?"

"Tomorrow night then," she ordered, because when Rose talked to you in _that_ particular voice, you knew whatever she said wasn't up for debate. "We're leaving as soon as the shop closes and I'll book us a room in Port Angeles so we won't have to bother about getting home and designated drivers and shit—though if we play our cards right, we aren't even going to need it."

"I'm not going home with some guy, Rose," I warned her. "Getting drunk and having some fun? Yes. But hookups with random strangers?" _Or in other words: people who aren't Edward_. "Definitely no way in hell that's _ever_ going to happen."

"We'll see." Rose smirked like she wasn't so completely sure about that and popped a leftover boozy sugared cherry from the chocolate fudge cherry cake I'd been baking for Victoria Halston's bachelorette party into her mouth. "By the way, do you know Vicky caught that son of a bitch cheating on her with one of the bridesmaids the other day?"

I nodded. "Dad was called out to their house because she threatened the cut off the bitch's face. I still can't get over the fact that she chose to go on with their wedding like nothing had happened."

"Minus one bridesmaid," Rose quipped, popping another cherry into her mouth. "I can't get over the fact that she agreed to marry the son of a bitch in the first place. I mean, this wasn't exactly the first time she'd caught him having some strange on the side."

I smirked, knowing Rose was right. In a town as small as my home town, there were very little secrets and so it was common knowledge that James Carson had been cheating on his girlfriend almost since their senior year of high school.

If Rose hadn't had a strict 'no cheating' policy, I'd have been willing to bet she was on that long list as well. After all, James was male and he was breathing, which just about summed up the criteria she had when looking for her next victim.

"I can't imagine living like that." I sighed, soaping up one of my workbenches. "Why marry someone who clearly doesn't love you?" The words weren't out of my mouth before a sharp pang shot through my heart. _Aren't you a bit if a hypocrite, Bella? I mean, it's not like you're still holding a candle for someone who's clearly over you…or is it now?_

"Not everyone thinks that stuff's important?" Rose tried. "But hey, what do I know? I'm not exactly relationship material here, so finding a reason why some bitch, who I never liked in the first place, wants to make herself unhappy by marrying the most worthless asshole in town is beyond me." She shrugged, picking the final cherry up by its stem with her long, perfectly manicured nails. "All I'm saying is that she's going to need all the booze she can get. Which is why this will be the perfect cake for her." Rose licks her lips. "By the way, these cherries are amazing. What did you put in them?"

"Sugar and cherry brandy," I answered, wondering as I'd done so many times how Rose could work in a cake shop for the better part of three years and still not know anything about baking.

The ding of the shop bell pulled my friend back into her workspace as I finished my work. One of the perks of not having Charlie waiting for me upstairs was that I could prep for the next morning; measuring out the flour, sugar, and other non-perishable ingredients until I was done.

Still, as I finally dragged my tired ass upstairs to the cold, dark and empty apartment, I didn't feel nearly as satisfied after my day's effort as the amount of work I'd actually done would implicate.

_Jeez, well, maybe it has something to do with the fact that there's nobody here to share this with, Einstein!_

Pushing the button on the answering machine, my heart sped up with happiness as I heard my baby's voice. "Hey, Mom! I know you're still at work but Daddy wanted me to call you now because he's taking us out to dinner and he thinks you may be out or something by the time we get back, but I know that's not true because you're always home."

_Great!_ I sighed, rubbing my temples. As happy as I was that my kid was having a great time with her dad and with…with her—no single mom wanted to hear about the complete and utter fucking failure of her social life. Especially from her own damn kid.

Charlie, in the meantime, droned on. Speaking as she always did: in long, excited sentences that left her slightly blue in the face at the end of them. "Anyway, we're having a great time. Angela brought us cookies, which was nice even though they aren't anywhere near as good as yours and tomorrow she's gonna take us to see the new animal shelter in Port Angeles she's volunteering at and then we're going to the movies." She took a deep breath, the sound of which almost audible through the connection. "Okay, Daddy says we've gotta go. I love you. Bye!"

I sighed, feeling all empty and sullen again as a silence settled back over my apartment that wouldn't go away no matter what I did that night—and believe me, I tried—even to the point of blaring some _Slipknot_.

I knew I was probably overreacting about this whole thing. I mean, it wasn't like I was the only mom who'd ever found herself in this kind of situation. None of the other co-parenting mom's I knew walked around like they wanted to stick their heads into ovens Sylvia Plath-style all weekend while their kids were off having fun with their fathers.

How the hell did they do that?

I'd been spoiled having our little girl virtually to myself for all these years. Sure, Edward had always been there in the background, calling her almost every day and coming back on the weekends as often as he could. But at the end of the day, she was almost always sleeping in her own bed on the other side of the wall from me.

Where she belonged.

There were overnight visits and short trips to her dad's in Seattle once he'd secured himself a small apartment off campus but never something like this…never something so permanent. In fact, most of the times it had been just the _three_ of us acting as if nothing ever happened to drive us apart. After ten years of spending almost every day with her, I had recently realized I'd been spoiled almost to the point of ruin.

And, of course, the whole Voldemary situation wasn't helping either…

Maybe Rose had been right. Perhaps I did need to get over this dream of me and Edward being together—I mean, _he_ had. Maybe it really was time for me to taste some of the other flavors on the buffet and at least try to move on.

**oOo**

The next day flew by. As with any other Saturday, my day was swamped with providing the good people of Forks with all their weekend treats and, on top of that, I had to prep my bakery for when Emmett would begin on Monday.

_I mean, it's not like you can just give the new guy a sack of flour and tell him to get kneading, right?_ Since I wanted him to have a good first impression of both me and the shop, I spent most of the afternoon turning everything upside down, and reworking the configuration of everything I could possibly drag across the floor and lamenting the fact that half my kitchen furniture was too heavy. In the end, I was mildly satisfied that I'd come up with a situation that would work; something where we could both focus without getting in each other's way, while still being within reach of both the utensils closet, the freezer and the pantry.

"What the hell's the matter with you?" I jumped, my self-satisfied smirk faded like snow before the sun at Rose's ire. _What the hell did I do?_

"What?" I scratched my head, looking around the place as I tried to figure out what crawled up her butt.

"We're leaving in half an hour and you're still dressed like that." Her face scrunched up as she waved over my somewhat haggard appearance; hair falling out of my ponytail onto my stained, sweaty chef's whites and flour practically everywhere. "You better get your ass upstairs right now and make yourself presentable, or else!"

I rolled my eyes, brushing my hair out of my face. "Yes, Mother."

"Good, I'll meet you out front in half an hour." Her hands were already on the doorknob before she turned around and narrowed her eyes. "And, God help me, if you're not wearing something sexy, I'll drag you back upstairs and dress you myself."

I nodded, probably looking as frightened as I felt at the prospect of being dolled up by a woman who'd have _Slutty McSlutterson_ feeling like a nun whenever she was dressed for a night on the town.

I guess I had managed to make myself presentable enough because when I slid into the car about forty five minutes later, I got a small nod and a little smile before she cranked up the volume of the sound system and tore off in direction of Port Angeles.

The ride was fun. As much as we worked together, it was sometimes easy to forget that we'd been best friends since I was four and she was six. Sometimes getting out of the shop and doing stuff was just what we needed to reconnect with that part of ourselves again.

We checked in at the hotel and dropped off our stuff in our suite before heading back out again to eat at a cozy Italian place before hitting the night life. Rose ditched most of her clothes the minute she heard the thundering bass from the first live-music bar we visited while I watched with amazement-bordering-on-fear as she managed to secure us a booth with prime views of the stage, two margaritas and the company of two guys who looked like they should be on the cover of a Ralph Lauren catalogue.

And all of that in the span of ten minutes.

How the hell did she do that?

"This is Garrett," she announced as she pointed at the man who'd slid in next to me, her arm already wrapped around the other guy. "He and Felix over here…" she purred—yes _purred_—as she snuggled up to her unsuspecting victim, one hand sneaking underneath the table to do God only knew what. "…are backpackers, visiting from Australia."

_Australia, you say? _

God help me.

I scowled at Rose, mouthing 'you're dead'. The bitch knew that Aussie accents were like kryptonite to me.

"G'day." And there we had it. Of course the guy, Garrett, not only looked like Hugh Jackman but also sounded like all my Man-from-Snowy-River fantasies boiled into one perfect package.

"Hi," I somehow managed to squeeze out, trying to wiggle myself enough personal space to keep me comfortable while across from me, Rose seemed to be doing exactly the opposite. "So…have you been in the States for long?"

"Coupl-a weeks," he answered, taking a long, manly pull from his beer. _Dear lord, even his drinking style is cowboy-y!_ "We started out in LA and spent a few days touring California and Nevada before heading north and ending up here."

My thighs clenched as his Australian twang shot straight to my core; the sound of his voice had me inhaling every final morsel until all I could come up with in reply was a dumb, "Oh."

"So, what about you?" he went on, apparently not as scared by my blatant lack of brain activity that he wanted to cut the conversation short. "Are you from 'round here?"

Okay, that got me talking. As always when someone asked me about my hometown, I couldn't stop trying to express my love for it. Sure, the old biddy gossip mill sometimes got on your nerves, and it was a bit unsettling at times to think about how many people in town were actually related to one another, but there wasn't a place on earth I'd rather live or raise my kid.

The town…it was in my bones.

Garrett, fortunately for me, seemed to understand my small-town love, nodding enthusiastically before he went on to explain that he, too, came from a small town—one he loved about as much as I loved Forks. And then he had to go and make himself even more perfect by announcing his parents owned a cattle ranch that he was going to start taking over when he got back from his trip.

_Seriously, did Rose compose him from all my girly fantasies or something? _

We migrated to the dance floor after the band had finished its set and give over the stage to the resident DJ. Not that I could dance or anything but, fortunately for me, neither could Garrett, which meant that we were both perfectly fine with swaying from one foot to another as we got a little bit closer. Each time we ended up next to Rose and Felix, they seemed to be reenacting a bunch of scenes from _Dirty Dancing_.

By the time the night morphed into morning, the booze and accents and strobe lightning had made me forget such a thing as an _Edward _even existed. So when Garrett's hands started to wander more and more, and his lips started to close in on mine, all I could think about was how much I'd missed this sort of intimacy and the thrill that came from kissing and touching.

And—_my God_—Garrett was a great kisser.

So I let him and things went further and further. In the back of my mind, a tiny voice was screaming at me to stop and think about what I was doing…how much I was going to regret this in the morning.

But I didn't listen.

Instead, a look of understanding was shared with Rose and Felix as we parted ways; she to the boy's room and we walked to my suite.

As the door slammed behind us, my heart was hammering in my throat; arousal pooling inside my underwear as his fingers burned over my skin, shedding me of my clothes while I grabbed at whatever part of him I could reach.

It was new and exciting; my body never having known another man than _him_ but remembering how good it was to feel a man's skin against your own, to stretch around him as he entered me and we moved together in reaching that intense high, where all your worries slipped away and nothing else existed but bliss. For one moment, I was able to lose myself completely and not think about work or the disaster that was my private life.

I just felt…_something…_again. And it made me feel _wanted. _

_It reminded me that I'm Isabella, a woman with desires, and not just Bella, Charlie's mom._

Regrets came later, though, as predicted, as I lay awake with Garrett dead asleep next to me. My tears were silent as I got up and made my way to the shower; the urge to wash away the evidence of what I'd just done was so great that I wasn't able to resist.

Not that I could escape it, though. In the bathroom, the hastily-ripped open wrapper and the discarded condom visible in the trash were taunting me; almost screaming that I was a disgusting piece of shit, cheating on the man she really loved just because she was too drunk and depressed to care.

Really, what kind of mother was I? Playing 'hide the salami' with some random stud while my kid was tucked up in bed at her father's place? Was this really what I wanted in life?

Was this really who I wanted to be?

Fortunately for me, the morning didn't yield any awkwardness. Eager to be on their way, the boys spent only enough time with Rose and me to not appear like total jackasses and pack their stuff into their rental before they were on their way to Seattle and, no doubt, to many more unsuspecting females who fell for the accent and all the fantasies attached to it.

We, too, were ready to get back on the road, though probably for different reasons. Rose, most likely sensing something was off with me, tried to recreate the same atmosphere we had on our way up. She cranked the volume up as she selected a classic rock station while prattling on about Felix and how he'd almost made her want to emigrate to Australia.

I, on the other hand, remained silent; my shame so overwhelming it had almost become a separate creature, mocking me for my weakness and blaming me with all the details of how I'd messed up as I relived them in my mind.

Not even Charlie's arrival that night made me feel better, though having her around did help to distract me. But then again, only one look at Edward as he dropped her off was enough to make me realize one thing.

I could fuck all the cattle ranchers and their brothers in Australia but, try as I might, I would never get over him.

I was basically screwed. And unlike last night, I wasn't enjoying it.

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_**Thoughts? **_


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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_**LadySharkey1 rocks my world by being the most amazing, kick-ass beta I could ever imagine. **_

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**Chapter 7**

_Made a decision and stuck by it…for a whole five minutes. _

"….and mommy, you should have seen all those dogs; they were soooo cute!" Charlie's eyes were huge as she spoke, chewing around a mouthful of homemade pizza.

I sighed, knowing only too well where this story would lead. "Oh, really?"

Nodding furiously, Charlie continued. "There were some that weren't so nice but you should have seen this one puppy, Mom. It was so cute and fluffy, and it had these little beady eyes staring at me…"

There were little, puppy dog eyes staring at me, too, at that moment, but I wasn't falling for it. "I'm sure that if he was so cute, he's going to find a home real soon, baby."

Pouting her lips at my less than enthusiastic reaction, she pulled out the heavy guns. "Oh, I hope so, because Angela told me that when the dogs or cats don't find a new home, the people at the shelter have to kill them. They don't have space to keep all the pets that nobody wants anymore." My heart broke as her lips trembled, even though at the back of my mind I was pissed off that apparently—_again_—Angela was in cahoots with my daughter to do shit that affected my life, not hers. "Won't it be sad if they kill all those cute dogs and cats?"

"It is." I nodded, breaking off a bit of pizza crust. I'd spent my afternoon doing penitence for my debauchery by doing hours of kneading which meant that, apart from the pizza we were eating for dinner, there were five fresh loafs of bread sitting in the freezer waiting to be eaten. My arms were still throbbing from the force that had pounded the dough into submission.

"Angela has rescued two cats," my baby girl went on, studiously avoiding my eyes. "And Daddy says he would have rescued a dog if he would have been allowed to have pets in his apartment."

"Oh, really?" I scowled. Of course that smug bastard would have found an easy way out of this mess.

"Yes." Charlie nodded earnestly, munching on the last bite of crust. "So, I think it's our duty to rescue some of those pets, preferably both a dog and a cat but I'm open to negotiations."

Even in spite of myself, I couldn't stop myself from laughing at her proposal. Seriously, there was a bright future for that girl in the legal trade, if she went on like that. "You are, huh?" I smiled wryly, not exactly chomping at the bits at the prospect of having to let my sweet daughter down. Again. _Damn that woman for putting ideas into her head!_ "But you know, darling, that dogs are very hard work and that I don't have the time to walk it or give it the attention it needs while you're at school." Time to pull on her heartstrings a little. "Don't you think it would be sad if your puppy is alone _all_ day and during the weekends while you're staying with Daddy?"

She pouted, my argument obviously having hit its mark. It broke my heart, even though I knew it was the right thing to do. "And what about a cute little kitty, Mommy?"

_Shit_. "Cats like to go exploring, baby," I explained, really, _really_ hating the fact that I had to be the bad guy. "And if your kitty would go exploring downstairs into the shop or the bakery, Mommy would get into really bad trouble with the health department if people complained about finding cat hairs in their cakes."

The disappointment on her face broke my heart and forced me to be more lenient than I wanted to. "But maybe we can see about getting you a pet hamster or some other cute, little thing. Provided, of course, that _you_ are the one to take care of it." I already knew that the person who would end up having to clean the cage and make sure it wouldn't die of hunger or thirst would be me, but what was a little sacrifice if it meant keeping my baby happy?

"I can have a hamster?" The excitement in Charlie's eyes made me breathe a sigh of relief. At least she was happy with that.

"I'll consider it," I warned her. "If you can prove to me you can take care of it by feeding Grandpa Charlie's fish for two weeks."

"Cool!" she squealed, hopping on her chair. "Can I go tell Dad?"

"Of course, you can," I smiled, happy she was so close to Edward again that she couldn't wait to share every bit of news—no matter how small and insignificant—in her life with him. There had been times when things were different; busy times for him when he struggled to catch five minutes each day to talk to her.

As much as he had made the effort, and we had both worked hard to keep the two of them as connected as they could be with him living all the way in Seattle and struggling as a medical intern, I think some of his tiredness must have shown through in his voice because as Edward's internship got tougher. Charlie grew quiet on the phone with him, it worried me when she no longer ran to the phone when it rang or spent the first couple of minutes discussing her day at a dazzling speed.

It was probably part of why he was back—choosing to spend his residency at a small, county hospital when, judging from the jubilant stories his dad was so fond of sharing, he could have had his pick of big, top-rated medical centers.

Rinsing off the plates while I listened to Charlie talk to Edward, my thoughts drifted back to the previous night; my nipples grew hard when my mind recalled the way Garrett's lips had folded around them, my body shivered as it remembered his touch.

And then, the guilt returned.

What had I done?

Deep down I knew my remorse didn't have so much to do with Charlie but, all the more, because of the person she was talking to. We may not have been together in reality, but within my heart, I had been cheating on Edward by sleeping with some random guy. A very good-looking Australian guy, but a random guy none the less.

Which left me in quite the conundrum.

On the one side, I couldn't keep pining after Edward, hoping I'd move on and, sometime in the (hopefully) not too distant future, I could find a guy tolerable enough to make me forget him. Or I could stop moping right there and then and decide to fight.

_Really_ fight.

Dirty—if I had to, but preferable just by crushing Voldemary with my superior wit and intelligence, because I had a feeling dirty fighting would really mess with my karma, but I had no fucking idea how to actually do it. I mean, engaging in slap fights was so…kindergarten…but if that wasn't it, then how the hell did someone destroy another living being without ending up in jail or proving a disappointment to one's offspring?

Coming up with a plan that didn't sound dangerous or ridiculous took up most of my Sunday night. That meant I had very little time to freak out about the new addition to the bakery staff until he was standing right in front of me, all smiles, muscles and too much freakin' body mass to belong to one person.

"So," Emmett started, his face excited as he looked around the place. "Where do you want me?"

After showing him the ropes and setting him to work, I took a few moments to take stock of the day ahead and get into the right mind frame before I started my own work. Finally finding my inner peace of mind, I set to work on the birthday cake for the Wellesely's little girl; a fairly simple one looking like a stuffed animal's tea party.

"I love the way you did that tablecloth." I jumped, hearing Emmett's voice behind me. In my rush of creation, I'd all but forgotten he was there. "It looks like real fabric instead of a piece of fondant."

I smiled, flattered by the compliment but even more relieved about the interest the boy took in learning the trade. "The trick is to roll it as thin as possible and drape it quickly," I explained, chuckling. "And believe me, I messed up _a_ _lot_ before I got that right."

"It's why I love my job," he grinned back, moving over to his workspace to offer me some of the batter he'd been mixing for the banoffee éclairs. "Even when you mess up, ten to one the result tastes amazing."

"And you get to eat it all by yourself," I added, remembering how in my first year of culinary school, I put on a whopping twenty-two pounds. "Having my own business, though, I found out real soon that messing up costs money!"

"I can imagine that!" Emmett nodded, pouring his mixture into a piping bag after I'd given my approval. "It's my dream of mine to one day to have a little cake shop where I can sell my own creations." He shrugged, his huge hands surprisingly nimble as he piped the filling into the choux pastry. "I know I've got a lot to learn before that happens, though. It's why I was so psyched to find out you were hiring. Ya know, since you're basically living my dream."

"It may come sooner rather than later," I countered, carefully placing the fondant stuffed animals and miniatures on top of the cake. "Look at me. I was barely out of school before I started my own place."

"But you were a legend among the peeps at Port Angeles Culinary School," Emmett argued. "I mean, to do what you do and establish a name for yourself within only two years? Man, I take my hat off to you, woman!"

"Thanks!" I could feel my cheeks heat up at his words, salvation coming just in time in the form of the phone ringing.

But, apparently, it was stick-feathers-up-Bella's-butt Day, because as I listened and stammered random replies, I could barely believe what I was hearing.

"Jeez, Bella! What the hell is going on?" Rose snickered, coming into the bakery to check up on us. "From the look on your face, you'd think you won the lottery."

"I think I have," I breathed, my heart pounding in my chest. "That was Marcus. It seems Demetri is hosting a huge banquet in Seattle next Sunday afternoon and since Marcus had to drop out at the last moment, he's suggested me as his replacement."

"Holy fuck!" Emmett's eyes grew huge, knowing what kind of honor that was. Demetri Kalashnikoff was the star teacher at the Port Angeles Culinary College. Having worked at a whole host of Michelin Star restaurants in the US as well as in Europe, he'd sacrificed his career when he'd fallen in love with a woman from the Pacific Peninsula. So instead of continuing on in the kitchens of _El Bulli_, the most famous restaurant in the world, or trying his hand at one of the other top restaurants around the globe, he'd settled down in Port Angeles to teach.

That didn't mean he'd lost any of his sharpness or need for perfection, though. During my first year, I'd been on the receiving end of some of his rants as my talent in pastry left something to be desired in all other courses. I'd learned so much from him, though.

And now he trusted me enough to put me in charge of dessert at one of the events he was hosting.

It was an honor, as well as a chance to really put my name out there.

"Yeah!" Inwardly I was squalling so loud I was almost sure Rose and Emmett could hear it, on the outside, though, my grin was so huge nobody could mistake my happiness. This…it was huge and daunting and just what I needed at that moment. Then, of course, the real world kicked me in the butt again with all the responsibilities holding me down. "But what about the shop?"

"You have to go, Bella," Rose argued, even before I'd come up with sufficient reasons to shoot the offer down. "It's on Sunday afternoon, so you'll only miss one Saturday at work, and I'm sure Emmett and I can hold the fort for that long."

Judging from the look that passed between the two of them, Emmett was as eager to become Rose's next conquest as my friend was to sink her claws into him. I hoped that wasn't going to cause problems in the future.

"Besides," Rose added, "with Charlie heading over to her dad's again this weekend, it will be good for you to have something on your hands. We're still set for Friday night, by the way, aren't we?"

I nodded, already looking forward to my daughter's soccer game. With Edward attending, it would be the perfect moment to launch my attack. "I'm just waiting to hear back from Edward about whether or not he's going to tag along to _Giuseppe's_ afterwards."

_Guiseppe's_ was the resident pizza parlor, owned by Joe (or Giuseppe, as he liked to call himself whenever he was serving his customers) Stanley. Being the only alternative to the local diner and the swanky (at least for Forks' tastes) Lodge, it was usually packed, especially on nights one of the local sports teams had a home game.

It was the downside to living in a one-horse town. It was great for bringing up your kid in a friendly, secure environment and have her enjoy the wonders of nature and all that but, as far as entertainment went, the offer was meager at best.

**oOo**

Standing in front of my mirror that Friday evening, I had to admit I was fucking nervous. Not only knowing Edward was going to be there for Charlie's game but he was also going to tag along for pizza afterwards. I knew that was my chance to shine. I borrowed an outfit from Rose and put in a lot more effort than usual as far as hair and make-up were concerned, I was dead set to showing Edward what he had been missing all these years and make him fall in love with me again.

Or, at least, that was my plan.

The only negative was that Voldemary would be tagging along with him like the good (and increasingly obnoxious) girlfriend she was.

At least I was prepared. My less than stellar performance at Alice's birthday party was still fresh in my mind and the knowledge I was going to be baking for Seattle's high and mighty under the guidance of a man who could rightly be called a _Food God_. That gave me more confidence then I'd had in years. Besides, I had the home court advantage this time, with both my parents and Rose backing my corner.

"I'm going to do this shit," I spoke to my reflection_._

"Mom, are you ready?" Charlie yelled up, already pacing impatiently in the hallway. "We're going to be late!"

"No, we're not!" I shouted back, putting on a little more lip-gloss before finally giving myself the 'ok'. "You know, as well as I do, that we're always the first ones to arrive!"

Not much later, I delivered Charlie to Coach Clapp, I made my way over to the bleachers where Rose and my parents had already installed themselves in our usual row, a huge bag filled with hot chocolate and enough blankets to keep us warm on this chilly September evening sitting in front of them.

"Am I late?" Edward, apparently was hot on my heels. The sound of his voice made me shiver involuntarily as I sat down, barely resisting the squeal when he took the seat next to me.

Shaking my head, I went on to explain to him how I had to be here early to drop Charlie off and the rest of my family always joined me just so that we could catch up. "It's kind of a thing," I concluded. "Like pizza afterwards."

"And the Swans are anything if not traditionalists," Rose joked, her brows set in a hard line as she stared my ex down. "Hello, Edward. Long time, no see."

"Rose." Edward nodded in greeting. There had never really been any love lost between the two of them. When we had been together, the two of them had merely tolerated each other, knowing the importance the other had in my life.

"You must be Bella's parents." I barely resisted the urge to punch her as Voldemary leaned over me to shake hands with my mom and dad as she introduced herself. "Charlie was telling me how much she loves your _Fish Saturdays_."

Judging by the slightly scrunched up face, I could tell Angela's enthusiasm was as fake as a two dollar bill. Not that it surprised me—with her being little miss do-gooder and all that. She probably frowned upon fishing even if it wasn't just for the sport of it but also to put food on the table. _I bet she's a vegetarian._

Fish Saturdays were a tradition in my family, though. With the bakery leaving me with little time to spend with my baby girl, my parents had stepped in to help me out. Dad usually picked Charlie up bright and early and took her out to the lake for some fishing and catching up before delivering her to my mom's kitchen where they would gut and fry the fish they'd caught.

It probably wasn't smart enough for someone from the big city, like Angela, but it was loads of fun to both my little girl and her grandparents, which made it one of the best ways to spend a day in my book.

"So, do I," my dad hedged, his eyes narrowing as they traveled over 'Miss Prim and Proper' who was dressed like she was going to attend a performance at The Met instead of a fifth grade soccer game, "It's a pity it's been a while..." A sharp look at Edward was meant to put him in his place, even if I disagreed with my dad in this case.

As much as I hated that he lost out on so much bonding time with his only grandchild, spending time with her dad trumped Fish Saturdays.

"Well…" Edward looked a little uncomfortable, his apologetic eyes made contact with me first before wandering back over to my father. "Perhaps they can be reinstituted this weekend, since one of the doctors is sick and I have to take over his shift tomorrow?"

"What?" I could feel my throat closing up in panic. _No, no. This can't be happening…_

"Ah, geez!" Dad grimaced as he went on to explain what I already knew. "If only we'd have known…me and Ren booked a little trip to Aberdeen. We're leaving after the pizza." It was something they'd done regularly did to 'keep the spice in their marriage'. They took little weekend trips to do God knows what and come back stronger than ever.

"Shit!" Edward cursed, stopping to cheer as the teams walked onto the field. "Dad has to work all weekend and my mom's still down with the flu. Bella?"

I sighed, feeling the tears burn behind my eyes. "I can't take her with me. She'd be all alone in a hotel in a strange city at night and that's not something I'm willing to do. I'll just…I'll call Marcus and let him know that I can't make it."

"No, you won't." Rose growled, grabbing my hand. "You're going and that's final. I'll juggle some of my shit and make sure I can take her."

"But Rose…" I knew that meant she was flaking out on taking her mom to the classic movie night at the community center. It was as much of a tradition as Game Night Pizzas were. Oh, and did I mention her mom suffered from early onset Alzheimer's?

"Mom will understand," Rose lied, squeezing my hand to the point of pain as she willed me to surrender. "And if she doesn't, she'll forget all about it before the sun has set. That's the good thing of having Alzheimer's!"

Squeezing my eyes shut, I cursed Fate for being such a bitch to me. Why ruin the one big break I'd gotten handed to me in God only knew how long?

"I can take her!"

It was at once a relief and a curse when the voice that had been mercifully quiet all through this conversation chimed in. Angela's disgustingly eager-to-please facial expression only added insult to injury as she leaned around Edward to catch my eye, forcing me to take her offer seriously. "I'm free all weekend, and with Edward away, I'd only be bored out of my skull. I'd be more than happy to have her for a sleepover."

The sound of the ref's whistle starting the game gave me some respite, my attention fixed on the early stages of the game as any good mother's attention would be, though inwardly my mind was waging war.

As much as I wanted to wave away the offer, it was the only way all of us could have our cakes and eat them too. And so, as much as it pained me and went against every solemn vow I'd made to myself this weekend, I found myself uttering the most unlikely word in the record of mankind.

"Okay."

* * *

_**Thoughts? **_


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

_**LadySharkey1 rocks my world by being the most amazing, kick-ass beta I could ever imagine. **_

* * *

**Chapter 8**

_Shit was about to go down…big time. _

Driving back from Seattle that Sunday morning, I felt better than I had in a long time; the glow of last night's success still made my insides sing as my car sped along the highway.

God, I'd forgotten how fun a regular restaurant service could be!

Fun and completely exhausting.

As much as I loved having my own business and the freedom it gave me to make my own schedule around my kid and to use my own creativity when it came to the cakes I sold, I had to admit that sometimes I missed the rush of evening service. Having interned at some of the swankier Port Angeles eateries throughout my years at Culinary School, those periods of times had been both the toughest and the most rewarding times throughout my professional education. You never learned quite as much as when you were among your peers, slaving away over hot pans and scorching ovens as an awe inspiring _chef du patron_ yelled out directions.

When you were in it, you were completely in the moment; focused on the work in front of you but also never forgetting that you were just one little cog in a huge machinery that churned out one beautiful, tasty dish after another. Your own skills and timing were as important as that of the person standing next to you because chances were your dishes would have to be sent out to the same table and therefore had to be ready at exactly the same time.

If not, disaster would strike and customers would have to wait or get food put in front of them that failed to meet the mark. And if that happened.

Where there was no greater sense of accomplishment than sending out your final, perfect plate for the night, the disappointment when a plate was sent back because the customer was unhappy with it was the greatest slap in the face you could get.

And really, you didn't even have to look at your head chef's angry face to know you'd completely and utterly failed.

The good thing was, though, that last night had passed without even a hint of disappointment. My smile widened as I drove home, my free foot tapping along to the beat of the music blasting from the radio as I glowed in the success of last night's epic challenge.

Like I expected, the dessert Marcus had planned on his menu hadn't been easy; the intricate textures of the mango parfait and its coconut sorbet topping balanced out by the crispy _tuille_ resting on top of it and the sharp bitter swirls of chocolate sauce woven around it on the plate. It was elegant, tasty and a hell of a lot of work to make, especially considering I'd had to deliver eighty completely identical plates of it, but I'd done it.

And apparently, I'd done it so well that Demetri said he'd get in touch whenever he had another big event. Apparently the fact that his usual pastry chef had let him down on such a short notice—even if it was because of a valid excuse like a family emergency—had landed him on the black list and me, little old me, right on top of the A list.

The feeling was indescribable!

Opening my little cake shop in my hometown had felt amazing. But still…after all the praise and accolades I'd gotten at Culinary College, I hadn't been able to stop myself from wondering sometimes about what could have been out there for me had I not been a mom, bound to the stability and reasonable hours my steady job my business gave me.

Could I have made it out there, in the mercilessly tough culinary world, as a pastry chef?

As much as Marcus had always supported me in my choices, there had been times when I saw a little hint of disappointment in his eyes about the fact that his star student was settling for relative obscurity. Not that he would ever have said it. No, it took an asshole like Mike Newton, my obnoxious, arrogant dickwad of a classmate to hold it over me on the evening of our graduation ceremony.

Shaking my head, my hands gripped the wheel a little tighter as I sped up, eager to get home and reassure myself of the fact that I _had_ made the right choice as his vile voice rang in my ear. _"Thanks, Swan. Or should I say commiserations? Because you bailed out to be a deadbeat mom in a one-horse town, so I got the job at Denali. I'll be thinking of you and your 'birthday cake hell' while I dish up three star desserts." _

I breathed a sigh of relief when I passed the sign announcing I'd now entered the town of Forks, Washington, home of the Spartans. The familiar sight of my two story, white little world soon came into view as I rolled through the main street, the car slowly sliding to a stop behind the shop.

Home.

I breathed in the sweet, floury scent of the bakery. Dropping my bag next to the door, I scanned the room to see what damage had been done while I had been away but, quite surprisingly, found nothing out of the ordinary.

Emmett really was a godsend.

Maybe even too much so, since no boss liked to come back from a trip to find out that everything had gone off without a hitch while they'd been away. It made a person feel expendable.

_Wait a minute, Swan. What the hell are you saying? You found a really good assistant and now you don't like him anymore because he's too good at his job? So much so, that you may be able to take a day off every now and then and have…I don't know…a fucking life?_

_Are. You. Nuts?_

I was starting to think that I was, in fact, going crazy. These last few weeks had been hell, with things changing so fast I could barely keep up with them. My whole life was being turned upside down and the mess that made had me running around cranky and doubting pretty much every single damn choice I'd ever made in life.

_And now even my thoughts have gone all whiny and obnoxious. _

I shook my head, flicking off the lights before trudging my way upstairs with my bulky overnight bag and dumping it in my bedroom. _I'll get to that when I get to that. _I brushed off my hands. _First, time for something more important: baking therapy. _

"Okay," I concluded, stripping out of my bulky sweater to grab my apron. Switching on the radio to my favorite station, I started to hum along with the song as I washed my hands and measured out the ingredients. "Time to make some kick-ass pie crust."

Kneading the dough was a therapeutically as it always was; the monotonous movement of one hand folding the dough before the other would take over allowing my mind to fold back into shape and turn back to being rational again. At least, rational enough to love my life and stop moping about shit that might have been and start focusing on how lucky I'd been to end up where I was.

I _was_ successful, both as a mom in bringing up a girl seemed to have happy-juice running through her veins and a vibrant spirit pouring out of every fiber of her being. I was also a businesswoman running a profitable _patisserie_ that drew in clients from all over the Peninsula.

More than could have been said for Michael Newton. Who, in fact, had ended up ruining his own little, insignificant, and far less successful bakery shop in Port Angeles after his stint at Denali had ended in shame and too many failed soufflés.

Served him right!

His double failures to my double successes! _Double douche!_

_See? Baking is therapeutic for me!_

The two-faced asshole couldn't even tell a Sacher Torte from an Opera Cake! I'd have liked to see him try to pull off an evening under Demetri's authority. He would have been fired before he'd even had a chance to complete his mise-en-place.

By the time I heard the crunch of the gravel, followed by the tell-tale sounds of small footsteps thundering up the stairs, the whole place smelled amazing; the fragrant spices I'd added to the pie filling zinging amidst the heavy heartiness of the beef.

"Smells good, Mom!" Charlie announced as I leaned down to give her a kiss. "I'm just going to put my bag away."

"Wait a minute…" I tried to stop her, my instincts immediately picking up on the fact that she wasn't her usual self. She was already gone, though, the sound of her bedroom door closing behind her only confirmed what I already knew.

Something had gone wrong.

Before I'd called my baby girl for dinner, I had already made a very angry phone call to her dad, who was apparently as out of the loop as I was about why our Charlie was so unhappy—even if it had happened under his damn watch. I respectfully tried to gain access to her room only to be met with a locked door and an angry growl I couldn't make heads or tails of.

"Please tell me what's going on?" I begged her, after spending half of dinnertime facing a sourly, absent minded mute where my normally so vivacious and talkative little girl used to sit. "And don't tell me it's nothing. I know something happened and I'm not going to give up until you tell me."

"It _is_ nothing," she barked, throwing her cutlery down with a loud clang as it hit the edges of her plate. "It's just…" She sighed her face half hidden behind her hair in a gesture I knew all too well because I'd done it myself countless times. "I don't think I like Angela very much."

_What?_ My head shot up, my surprise meeting with her solemnity as I waited for her to explain herself—which she didn't.

"What happened baby? I mean…last week things were going so well!"

"She was different this time." Charlie shrugged, her fork digging into the pastry crust still lying on her plate. "She's okay when she gets to talk about animals and stuff, which was why I thought this weekend was going to be pretty cool. I even thought she might let me help her with some of the stuff she did as a volunteer at the shelter…but she didn't."

"Then what did she do, sweetheart?" I asked, trying not to press even though I was already starting to get livid with that bitch for making my little girl upset. Any spark of pleasure I might have felt at this sudden turn of events—and Voldemary's subsequent fall from grace—was gone the second I saw Charlie's face.

My girl shrugged, the crust that remained of her dinner slowly dissolving in the little puddle of meaty juices left behind. "It wasn't really bad or anything, it was just…" As she smirked, reluctance was rolling off her in waves as she finally put her fork down and folded her hands, her eyes still anywhere but on me as she spoke. "She tried to make me do all these girly things on Saturday when dad wasn't there."

"Girly things?"

"When we got to dad's place after she picked me up from soccer practice it turned out she'd gone through my things…" Charlie started, the rage that had been steadily building inside me now erupting like a damn volcano.

"What?" I cried, still laboring to keep myself from going postal and scaring the crap out of Charlie. "Why would she do that?"

"She said she'd booked us a 'get-to-know-you' tea party at Mrs. Potts Tearoom and I needed to wear a dress or I was going to look out of place," Charlie answered timidly, her whole posture screaming insecurity.

Being a pastry chef I knew Mrs. Potts very well even if I'd never done business with them because their demands were just ridiculous. It was this snooty tearoom where the rich and famous (or at least those who thought they were) of the Peninsula came with their spoiled little bratty daughters to drink tea, brag about their kids' accomplishments and pay insane amounts of cash for so-so pastry.

Already having a hunch where this was going, I had to fight hard to keep my anger out of my voice. That fucking bitch! I gave her one chance to bond with my girl, and that had been hard enough for me as it was, and she had to go fuck everything up and make my daughter unhappy by pushing her own fucking agenda on her?

That shit so wasn't going to fly.

"Then what?" I asked, sensing from her body language that there was even more to this story, though I wasn't quite sure whether or not I wanted to hear it. "You told her you don't own any dresses because you hate wearing them, didn't you?"

She nodded enthusiastically, her eyes wide and carrying an amount of hurt that broke my heart. "I tried but she wouldn't listen to me." Her bottom lip trembled as she continued. "She told me every girl needs to have some dresses and pretty skirts or she's not really a girl, and that if you wouldn't buy them for me, she would make sure I'd grow into a proper lady."

"A _what_?" For a moment I lost my cool. How dare that bitch to insinuate that my amazing, perfectly unique girl wouldn't adhere to some archaic standard of what a 'girl' was supposed to look like, was beyond me. Sure, she was a tomboy, and most of her friends were boys instead of girls, but it was not up to Angela to decide whether or not that was okay.

Or to even judge her for that matter.

The bitch was so going down.

"It's how she said it, Mommy." Charlie's voice barely registered above the explosions of fury going off like fireworks inside of me. "And I'm almost certain that if Grandma Esme hadn't shown up, she would have forced me to go _shopping_ with her."

There was no worse punishment to Charlie than to be taken out on a shopping trip. It was something she got from me, actually, and so we always made sure to limit our excursions to a bare minimum—much to our mutual satisfaction. To know that not only had her feelings been hurt by Voldemary's interference, but that she could have also been forced into clothes she didn't want to wear?

The fact that I had an unhappy kid sitting in front of me was the only thing keeping me from going over to that woman's place with a rolling pin and beating her.

"What happened then?" I wanted to know, hoping Esme had put a definite stop to this mess.

"She dropped it," Charlie replied in a small voice. "But…I don't know. All through the weekend—even with Daddy around—I had a feeling she was still trying to change me into a girly girl, even if she didn't say anything."

"And did you tell your dad?" From the answers—or lack thereof—I'd gotten out of Edward earlier that night, I already knew that Charlie hadn't told him but I wanted to hear the words out of her own mouth. And, most of all, I wanted to know why she hadn't told him.

As expected, she shook her head, plucking at the sleeves of her sweater as she answered my question. "He really wanted me and Angela to get along so I didn't want to disappoint him when…"

"When what?" I pressed even though I had a scary feeling I really didn't want to hear it.

"When I wasn't really sure who was wrong?" The words came out shakily and almost like a question, but the underlying doubt was so thick it shattered me. All the confidence and happiness she'd had throughout her life seemed to have vanished because some interloping bitch had put ideas into her head, making her doubt everything she'd always thought of as normal.

"Listen to me, baby girl." I was as serious as a heart attack as I sat up and grabbed both her hands.

"You are the most amazing girl I know—and I'm not saying that because I'm insanely biased, it's a _fact_." I took a breath, summoning all the strength and motherly skills I'd picked up from years of watching Renee and Esme.

"You've done nothing wrong here. Do you hear me? Not _one_ thing. She can't make you do something you don't want to do and if she does that, or even tries to do that, I want you to call me—immediately, not matter how busy you think I am—or tell your father. I won't have her putting ideas into your mind!"

"So it's okay for me not to like her?" she asked in a tiny voice, the look on her face more relieved than anything.

"If she tries to make you do things you don't want to do, or makes you feel bad about not wanting to do the things she wants to do, then that's perfectly fine by me," I answered, knowing I was probably on a slippery slope but not giving a damn about it all the same. "I'll still talk to her and to your dad, though, to see if we can fix this."

She nodded, a small smile appearing for the first time since she'd walked into the house. "I'd like that, Mommy."

Pulling her onto my lap, even though she was too big for that, I pressed a kiss into her hair. "I'd like that too, baby cakes."

My words couldn't have been further from the truth but in that moment, I sensed it was all she needed to hear. What I did know, though, was that there was going to be one hell of a sit down in the meantime with Edward where some new rules were going to be added to our co-parenting.

Knowing Edward, though, I knew he was going to put up one hell of a fight as soon as he heard what I was demanding.

Not that I gave a shit, though. He was lucky enough I wasn't marching over there to knock some sense into the both of them, even though God only knew how much I wanted to. It wasn't going to do me any good, though. Like the incident in the supermarket when some judgmental bitch had made a remark about teen moms, I'd learned to always count to ten before I acted.

Not that it would make me any less pissed off when I did talk to him tomorrow. He could throw everything at me he had in him but after what had happened that weekend, I would wage war with the devil himself if it meant keeping that woman away from my kid.

No matter how dirty I'd have to fight to make that happen.

* * *

_**Thoughts?**_


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

_**LadySharkey1 rocks my world by being the most amazing, kick-ass beta I could ever imagine.**_

* * *

**Chapter 9**

_Reason seems to be absent in the small town of Forks._

"What a bitch!" Of course Rose could always be counted on to give me her honest opinion, whether I agreed with it or not.

This time I did, luckily enough.

"I know! I was _this_ close to running over there and ripping her a new one!" I growled, pounding the dough with my fists. "The nerve of that hypocritical bitch!"

"So how is Charlie feeling now?" Emmett mingled into the conversation; his presence in my bakery was so common that I wasn't even shocked he was joining a discussion about my private life. It seemed almost like he'd always been there, with even Charlie acting as if he was some older cousin who'd moved into town—but then it helped that Emmett shared her love of frequent, mischievous schemes that involved building stuff and getting extremely dirty.

My filthy, incredible tomboy! _Despite what other assholes think…_

"She's doing much better," I answered. My relief was still palpable as I thought back on how she left the house earlier that morning; her usual spring back in her step and her chattiness slowly returning where it had been so notably absent the previous evening. "But I think what Angela said really struck a nerve. I mean…she really doubted herself last night, and that really pisses me off!"

"That bitch shouldn't be in front of a classroom full of impressionable young kids if all she wants is to transform them into what she thinks a girl should look like," Rose growled as I nodded enthusiastically. "So what if Charlie isn't the picture of a girly girl, running around in pretty clothes and playing with dolls. Anyone who looks at her sees how amazing she is!"

"I just can't get over the fact that she even did it!" I snarled, putting the dough away before I'd completely savaged it in my murderous rage. "How can I ever send Charlie over to her dad's again, knowing there might be a repeat performance?"

Emmett nodded, his calm demeanor rubbing off on me, even though time hadn't made my ire lose its force. After having had a sleepless night filled with worry, I was very much mama bear on the prowl. "Have you spoken to her dad yet?"

"I left a message on his voicemail," I explained. "I couldn't trust myself to talk to him in person last night, though God knows I wanted to. Not without the whole thing blowing up in our faces and…and he's still her dad. We have to be mature about this for our daughter's sake."

"I think that was a pretty good decision." Emmett nodded along, even though Rose thought I should have gone for the beat down.

I had been unable to sleep, so I'd snuck into the bakery to find out how things had fared in my absence. With my mind still reeling from the conversation I'd had with my daughter, it had been a relief to find out that at least in this part of my world, everything seemed to have gone off without a hitch. Emmett had even been as thoughtful to have left samples of his baking in the fridge for me to check, though really I knew no such thing would be necessary. After all, he was everything Marcus had promised me he'd be, and then more, and there honestly hadn't been a single worry in the back of my mind when I'd driven off for Seattle on Saturday. Well, at least not about my bakery.

And apart from that, he was also a great guy. In only a few days' time, he'd blended in with me and Rose to the point where neither of us could even imagine what it had been like without him. Which was saying something, since neither one of us was easy to work with. He was just that kind of guy; the type you could have a long, deep conversation with only to have him conclude it with a joke and an offer to grab a beer at the bar a couple of doors down the street from us.

And right then, I realized I really needed that.

A friend; one who hadn't been there ten years ago but who was ready to offer advice based on what he saw, instead of what he'd seen.

"I need to talk to Edward, though, and soon, even though I know I haven't really cooled off since Charlie told me about what happened." I sighed, mixing the ingredients for the chocolate icing on my chocolate-chocolate cake into a bowl. "We're having lunch at one, after his shift at the hospital ends."

"If I can give you some advice…" Emmett started as Rose left the kitchen to tend to a customer, his eyes seeking mine over the workbench before he continued, "make sure you keep your cool during that meeting. It's a very sticky situation you're in right now, and it will only get worse if your anger is misunderstood for jealousy."

I nodded, even though my first instinct was to fly off the handle. "I'm kind of stuck on what to do, though," I admitted. "I know I'm still angry about what happened last night, so maybe having this conversation might not be the best of ideas but, on the other hand, something needs to happen now. Before Charlie is exposed to that bitch again."

"I agree." Putting the birthday cake he finished aside with a gentility that belied his huge, hulking figure, he leaned against the worktop. "Still…make sure you keep in mind who you're there for."

Charlie.

In my anger, it was sometimes hard to remember that she was stuck right in the middle. From what she told me last night, I already surmised that she was having terrible loyalty issues already: ending up incredibly hurt by what Angela had done but not wanting to tell her dad—or even me, for that matter—because she wanted to please him.

We'd have to be careful and keep it from affecting her even more.

But the problem was, would we?

And if I didn't defend my daughter, who would?

"How is it that you know so much about this stuff?" I asked, my curiosity raised by Emmett's sage advice.

"It happened to me, a long time ago." His eyes didn't meet mine as he set about measuring the ingredients for his next project; a new kind of cake he wanted to try out. "My parents got divorced when I was twelve, and to say they parted amicably would be the understatement of the century."

"That sucks!" Knowing the statistics, I'd always counted myself lucky to have grown up in an intact family. Edward and I had both been. And even if we didn't make it, to me, it had never felt like we were so far apart that we couldn't raise our kid together.

That was, until _she_ came along.

"It did suck," Emmett confirmed. "Though at times it did have some perks. I mean, there's gotta be something said for getting a double amount of presents at Christmas and on your birthday because you get to celebrate it twice and neither your mom or your dad wants to be seen as the 'cheap' one."

"I guess so," I hedged, already sensing there was one big ass 'but' hanging in the air.

I waited.

"But…"There it was. Emmett sighed, his hands coming almost to a standstill in the huge bowl of cake batter. "Most of the time I hated being to be stuck in the middle of a never-ending fight." He shrugged, his eyes trained to his work.

"The only upside to them being divorced was that I didn't have to listen to them fighting all the time when they thought I'd gone to bed. Not that having them on my case about how the other was doing was particularly fun, though; or the non-stop bitching about how my dad was teaching me all the wrong things and how my mom was such a stuck-up bitch that I'd never learn how to be a proper guy."

Sighing, I couldn't help but wonder if Edward and I were going down that road as well. I mean, I was trying not to go there and to always keep my girl in the back of my mind, but after what Charlie told me, I could already see that she was starting to experience the downside of having both your parents so close.

"What do I do?" I whispered, not really realizing I'd said it out loud until Emmett's eyes finally found mine.

"Try to keep as much of a clear head about this as you can," Emmett advised. "Never argue in front of her, or think that you're talking over her head, and always make sure to keep her in the loop." Again, shaking his head, he pursed his lips before adding, "I know from experience how fucked up it is to know your parents are making all sorts of decisions about your life without asking your opinion or even bothering to let you know until there's nothing you can do about it."

I could definitely see the point he was trying to make. After all, in some ways Charlie was pretty mature for her age and—apart from that—uncannily perceptive. However, if stuff was going on, she'd know, no matter how hard I'd try to keep her out of it.

"You'll do great, though," he assured me and I found that his support soothed my nerves more than anything else had. Rose was a great friend, and one I'd cherish for as long as I lived, but she had never been good at the whole 'supporting' thing. Sure, she was great to have around when you were pissed off and needed to vent but when it came to finding solutions she was usually stuck on two things: kick it or fuck it.

And in this case, neither was appropriate.

Which was why, a couple of hours later when I was sitting across from Edward at the little diner a few doors down from my own bakery, I was trying very hard to remember his advice.

"You look tired," I remarked, after forcing my way through the usual pleasantries.

He shrugged. "Haven't really slept in the last forty-eight hours," he causally remarked, wiping his eyes as he ordered a cup of coffee and an omelet.

"No?" I couldn't even fathom not sleeping for a whole day, let alone more. The months before Charlie had learned how to sleep through the night had been some of the toughest of my life.

"I had the graveyard shift on Saturday, pulling a double after my regular weekend hours," he went on to explain, drumming his fingers against the table top as if the movement was the only thing keeping him awake at that moment. "But I also wanted to spend time with our little girl so I only slept for a few hours on Sunday morning when the hospital called right after I'd dropped her off. They asked if I could cover for someone who'd called in sick, so I drove to the hospital after leaving her with you and I've been working ever since."

"Oh," I breathed, suddenly realizing that this probably wasn't the right time to get into heavy parenting discussions with him. But really, when would the right time be? Charlie's next weekend visit already looming at the end of the week.

"It's okay," he shrugged, sighing with pleasure when he took a sip from his coffee. "It's why they call it a 'residency', I guess. Every new doctor has to go through it. That's why they pay us the big bucks once we've made it through to the other side." He chuckled humorously.

"And the fact that you'll be responsible for other people's lives," I mused, gingerly sipping from my cup.

"So what was it you wanted to talk about?" Edward asked, digging into his plate of food as soon as the waitress had put it in front of him.

I fidgeted, playing with my mushroom omelet long enough to reduce it to a chopped up mess on the plate. "There's something I need to talk to you about but…but it's hard."

"Yeah?" Looking up, he gave me this 'cut to the chase' look that did nothing to reduce my nerves.

_Well, here goes nothing._ Taking a deep breath I started. "Do you remember me calling you last night? Just after you'd dropped Charlie off?"

Nodding around a bite of his food he mumbled. "It was about Charlie being upset, wasn't it?"

"Yeah." Stalling as I took a bite of my food.

"So?" he pressed, and the part of me that once knew how to read even the tiniest shift in his mood, just from the way his body moved, picked up on an increase of tension. _Shit. _

By that time, my anger had kind of deflated; the underlying tension of the moment and the importance Emmett had pressed into my mind of keeping this conversation as harmonious as possible made me feel more like a cornered animal than a mama bear protecting its cub.

"I finally managed to get her to open up and…" I sucked in a deep breath, my voice speeding up in nervous energy as I went on. "And it turned out that some things Angela said to her this weekend really got to her, which is why I think we need to talk about setting some, um, boundaries."

"Something Angela said to Charlie?" He put his fork down as the crease between his eyebrows deepened.

I nodded hesitantly, trying desperately to ascertain whether that ridge was formed in mere confusion or if there was also some annoyance packed in there somewhere. "From what Charlie told me, Angela had made plans to do thing that were slightly more _girly_ than Charlie would have liked and wanted her to dress accordingly and, well, you know your daughter."

"What? So Angela made some plans that weren't exactly up Charlie's alley and they talked about it," Edward repeated; his tone and demeanor became more defensive by the second. _Yep, definitely annoyance_. "Angela told me all about it on Sunday. She thought it would be nice to try something new. She feels awful about how it all turned out."

"And did she also tell you how she tried to guilt trip our girl into going along?" I snapped, his defensiveness rekindling my rage. "Or how she had made Charlie so upset that she was still doubting everything about herself the next night?"

"It couldn't have been _that_ bad," Edward downplayed, wadding up his napkin and throwing it on his empty plate. "If it was, she would have told me about it when I came home…or even shown how upset she was. I would have _known_."

"It was bad enough for me to call you, remember?" I spat back, throwing my own fork onto the plate with a loud clang. "And it was bad enough for me to _insist_ on having this conversation with you so that we can keep it from happening again!"

"Come on, Bella!" he growled, sitting forward as if to intimidate me with his sheer size. _Fat chance, buddy!_ "It was all a misunderstanding! I told you, Angela never meant any harm and is really torn up about how it turned out." He shrugged and made me want to slap him from his nonchalant gesture. "There's no use in bringing it all up again…it's done, and everybody seems to have moved on from it, except for you."

"Wha-" I started, but in my completely befuddled mind, I was not even I was quite sure what I was going to say.

_What would Emmett do?_

Not that Edward even gave me the courtesy of getting my own two cents in as he droned on. "If you really want me to, I'll talk to Angela tonight and ask her to tone it down a little, but there really is no reason to get so hurt over all this. I mean, can't you see you're overreacting just a little?"

"Overreacting?" I cried, earning dirty looks from other diners. "Who's overreacting here? She might not have seemed all that upset to you but you didn't see her on Sunday evening. It was terrible, Edward! I've never seen her so upset, _ever_!"

"If she was really so upset, then why didn't she tell me?" Edward countered, his smug know-it-all smirk enraged me to the point where I wanted to reach out and stick my fork into his eye socket.

"Because she knows Angela is important to you and she was afraid she'd disappoint you by telling you she felt uncomfortable," I explained, wishing—_praying_—it would help him to understand. Anything that could make our conversation easier; more like we _used_ to be.

Because this? It wasn't us.

Before this bullshit, we never fought—never like this anyway. Where were the times when we used to handle this kind of stuff like adults?

"She'd never do that," Edward spoke, shaking his head as if the mere thought of my words was ridiculous. "The Charlie _I know_ wouldn't hesitate to be upfront to me about anything."

"Then maybe you don't know her that well after all," I spat, biting back even sharper comments about how he hadn't spent the past ten years around her twenty-four seven like I had. "Just like I don't think I know you that well anymore." Standing up, I fished for my purse and threw my part of the check on the table. "The Edward I knew—my _friend_—would have actually listened to what I had to say because he cared more about his own daughter than about some girl. But don't you worry about a thing, you jackass. I'll be here putting her needs first. You should try it, too."

The tears falling down my cheeks as I stormed out of the diner were for more than just sheer despair over how the situation had turned out. Because even with setting aside how frustrated I'd felt over the fact that he wouldn't even listen. Edward didn't even hear me out when I was talking about the wellbeing of his child, for goodness sake. The clusterfuck of a talk had also made one thing perfectly clear: I'd not only lost the dream I'd cherished for so long of the three of us one day becoming a family again.

But somewhere along the line, I'd also lost my friend.

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_**Thoughts? **_


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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_**LadySharkey1 rocks my world by being the most amazing, kick-ass beta I could ever imagine.**_

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**Chapter 10**

_More things get roasted than just a turkey._

Two weeks later I was standing on my parents' doorstep with a huge pecan pie in one hand and an overexcited ten year old grabbing the other as we waited for someone to open the door.

"Do you think Daddy's already here?" she asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

I sighed, slightly repositioning the pie to avoid a doorstep-disaster. "He had to work, sweetie.

He'll be here later in the afternoon; just in time for dinner, remember?"

I must have been crazy for going along with my mom's plan to invite Edward for Thanksgiving dinner. But as I looked at my happy little fire bolt as she danced around on the balls of her feet with her impatience to see her father again, I knew it had been the right decision.

Although, I was sure would rather eat my way through a bucket full of live scorpions than sit down at that table across from him. _Yes, I'm still bitter, and wish that I would have spilled coffee on him at the restaurant. My life is full of regrets!_

Charlie nodded biting her lip. "Will Grandma Esme and Grandpa Cullen be here?"

I chuckled, remembering how, when she was little, she couldn't pronounce Carlisle's name and had simply settled on 'Grandpa Cullen'. Over the years the name had somehow stuck, though I wasn't sure whether or not Carlisle was too upset about it. Or even present enough to notice.

You'd think that being semi-retired meant that a person would spend some more time at home, especially when he'd had a job that had taken him away from his family so much over the years, right? Not Carlisle. He'd been quick to fill his down time with some big shot position on the board at the hospital in Port Angeles, which had him being away from home even more often than he'd been when he was working full time at Forks General.

Not that I minded in the slightest because he intimidated me, just like he always had. And it wasn't just because I knew he'd never really liked me; it was because deep down I knew he was right.

I _had_ almost ruined his son's dreams.

"Mom?" Pulling on my hand, Charlie brought me back to the present, her eyes quietly demanding an answer.

"They're in Chicago, baby," I replied with no small amount of relief. "Didn't your dad tell you about how Grandma Esme's sister, Sophie, moved all the way out there to be with her new boyfriend?" I waited for her to nod before I continued. "Well, since your grandmother couldn't wait to meet him, and Grandpa Cullen wanted to visit some of his old friends from back in the day when he used to live in Chicago, they decided to take Aunt Alice and spend the holiday there."

"But…" Charlie stammered. "Won't that make Dad sad? I'd be so bummed if I had to spend Thanksgiving without you guys."

I sighed. "A little, maybe, but he had to work so he wouldn't have been able to spend much time with them anyway. And Grandpa Charlie and Grandma Renee invited him to come have dinner with us so he wouldn't be lonely _and_ he gets to spend the day with you. What could be more awesome than that?"

"I guess so." Judging from the look on her face, she wasn't completely satisfied with my reply but as we listened to my mom's high-heeled footsteps come closer to the door, at least she was satisfied enough to let it drop.

The question about what the fuck had taken her so long to open the door died on my lips the second the door creaked open to reveal my mom.

Covered head to toe in flour and with an apple peel dangling from what once must have been a perfectly coifed up do.

"What the—" I managed to catch myself just before I'd have to add to Charlie's college fund. "Mom, you know I baked a pie, right?"

"I know that!" Mom huffed. "But I wanted to make something that could stand up next to your pies. It's not good for my ego to always be outdone by my daughter, you know?"

"You made the turkey and dressing," I argued, chuckling as I leaned in to kiss her. "And all the side dishes, too."

"And they're the same every year so no one's every going to remember them. Your cakes, however…" Mom arched a brow, looking at the perfectly constructed pecan pie resting underneath the clear, plastic dome. "Your father will be talking about how amazing it was for days."

"Come on," I suggested as my daughter skipped off into the living room to go pester her namesake. "I'll give you a hand with the pie so that when it's served, you can go take all the credit. Okay?"

"Fine." As unhappy as she seemed to be, she was, at least, mollified enough to go along with me, muttering under her breath how bad she was at being a housewife if she couldn't even bake a damned pie.

Trailing after her, I suddenly felt profoundly happy that I'd been spared the stress of hosting Thanksgiving dinner. The Cullens and Swans usually come together at Edward's parents' place for one big celebration since they had the bigger house and a dining room that could host all of us without having to stack people on top of each other.

"What else do you need help with?" I asked, knowing she was probably in over her head. After all, over the past ten years, all she'd had to do was make her famous mashed potatoes and my grandmother's delicious green bean casserole recipe that had been passed down to her.

"Maybe you could help me peel some potatoes?" she asked, pointing at the huge sack of potatoes, half buried underneath all kinds of cooking supplies on the counter. "I want everything to be perfect today since _that boy_ is coming and I don't want him to go back to his parents and tell them he wasn't properly fed."

Rolling my eyes, I bunched up the sleeves of my cardigan as I got to work. To say mom had been pissed off when she found out what had happened with Angela and Charlie—and the whole clusterfuck of an argument the morning after—would be the understatement of the century. Always an advocate for Edward's side, when my dad could never forgive him for knocking up his little girl, she was so disappointed in him she couldn't even speak for five minutes. And when she finally started speaking, it was only to curse 'that boy' for thinking with his dick and losing sight of what was important.

Not that I disagreed with her.

"If you dislike him so much, then why did you invite him?" I asked morosely, hoping against my better judgment that somehow a miracle would prevent Thanksgiving from becoming horribly awkward. With my family and Edward all gathered around a table, there was little chance at that.

"No one should be alone on Thanksgiving." She sighed, wiping her hands on her apron. "Besides, I know you, Bella, so I know that if I hadn't invited him, _you_ probably would have. No matter what happened, Charlotte deserves to spend the holidays with her mom _and_ dad; even if _that boy_ doesn't deserve the pleasure after what he said to you."

"He's still her dad." I sighed, dunking another peeled potato into the pot filled with water. "And besides, as much as I hate how things turned out, he _did_ talk to the woman, and at the very least he did something to keep that bitch away from our daughter because Charlie was her happy when she came back last Sunday."

Mom patted my hand as she came to stand next to me. She'd been there, the Tuesday evening after that disastrous weekend and the even more disastrous conversation the day before, when I'd had to ship a very apprehensive Charlie back off to her dad's for a good old chat about what happened. Edward had insisted on it. Deep down inside I knew it had to happen, but the fact that I had to leave her behind with nothing more than her cell phone and the promise to come pick her up if something bad happened.

It killed me when she looked back at me with a touch of sadness while they walked to his car.

I'd completely lost it afterwards, crying onto her shoulder as I became lost in my fear for my little girl and the bitterness about the unfairness of my life.

Fortunately for me, though, it all went off without a hitch, and when I picked her up the next Sunday, after the first post-clusterfuck weekend she'd spent with her dad again, Charlie was smiling and yapping on all evening about the amazing time they'd spent together (and without Voldemary). From then on, regretfully, she had slowly eased herself back into the picture but at least she'd been wise enough to shut her trap. She prevented herself from ending up in a full on bitch-fight she was definitely going to lose. _I mean, come on! How strong can a kindergarten teacher be? Especially compared to a woman who kneads insane amounts of dough all day and has as a pair of biceps that put bodybuilders to shame!_

It had all been a terrible misunderstanding; Charlie would have me believe after her sit-down with her dad.

Well, excuse me, but I didn't believe a single word of that crap.

Because if they were so damn sure it wouldn't happen again, why had Edward taken my baby girl aside that day and promised her she wouldn't have to be alone with Voldemary if she didn't want to?

Their reassurances were as fake as everything about her seemed to be, but unfortunately I seemed to be the only one of us who saw through her crap.

For the moment.

It was still hard, leaving Charlie with her dad after everything that had happened. But with Charlie and Edward's relationship back to its old, happy nature, she looked forward to the days she would spent with him just like she used to. There was little else I could do but hope everything would turn out right and keep a eye on my phone all day in case she needed me.

"As long as Charlie's happy, huh?" Mom sighed, her hand rubbing up and down my back before she loosened her hold and stepped away. "Don't forget to remember yourself, sweetheart. I know that as her mom, you're only looking for Charlie's happiness but I'm _your_ mom and I worry that you're putting yourself last."

"I'm fine." Letting out a deep breath I picked up the knife again, my hands needing the monotony of kitchen work to offset the turmoil in my brain. "It's just hard to adapt to this situation. I'm sure I'll be fine in a couple of weeks when I've moved on."

Part of me was unsure whether or not that would ever happen. My feelings for Edward ran so deep that not even I was able to see the end of them. I had to close the door on them, though, even if it was just for my own sanity. Because after what happened, I wasn't so sure if the love I felt him still outweighed the resentment.

Sensing I was at the end of my rope, my mother quickly changed the subject back to her attempt at cake baking. By the time I'd finished putting the final touches to the place settings on our small dining table, the clearing of a throat behind me made me almost jump up to the ceiling.

"What?" I gasped, clutching my heart as I turned around to see Edward leaning against the doorframe with a bemused smirk on his lips.

"Your dad let me in, though going by the way he scowled and immediately backed away again, I wonder if I'm really welcome after all," he remarked, pushing away from the doorway as he stepped into the room.

"You are," I ensured him, though I had a feeling this would only be the first of many awkward moments. "Mom wouldn't have invited you over if she didn't want you to come. Besides, our daughter was ecstatic when she found out you were joining us for dinner."

"And you?" he prodded, his eyes serious and dauntingly close as they bore into mine.

I shrugged. "We've always been friends, haven't we?" It wasn't a lie, but at this moment, it wasn't the truth either. Over the past couple of weeks, things had become strained between us; the presence of a third party driving a wedge into what had always been one of the closest relationships possible.

"Look…" He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Before we sit down to dinner I wanted to apologize for the way things went down the other day. I was exhausted after the shift from hell but that doesn't justify the way I treated you."

_Nope, but sometimes life doesn't wait until after you've taken a nap, Edward_.

"It doesn't," I agreed. "It really hurt to have you dismiss my worries like that and—"

Just then, a loud squeal from further into the house interrupted us. Edward's face lit up like a candle as Charlie's hurried footsteps drew closer. His face was still serious, though, as he turned his attention back upon me. "Can we talk? After dinner maybe?"

I nodded. "You can come over after we leave here." I finished just in time before Charlie came bounding into the dining room, almost bumping headfirst into her dad as she charged through the door before launching herself at him.

Seeing them together—all three of us, really, in the same room again, just like any normal family—a familiar sense of belonging settle in my chest. It was short-lived, though, the completeness banished by an acute sense of loss as I realize he no longer belonged to me.

There wasn't a family standing in that room.

Not anymore.

Dinner was as awkward as it had looked on paper, starting with my dad deliberately bumping Edward's shoulder like some kind of petulant five year old as he passed him on the way into the room. My mother waited until the first course was actually on the table before she started a cold war of words.

It was like being stuck in the middle of a battlefield, with only Charlie being blissfully unaware of the battle that was raging around her.

As much as their words wound me up, I had to give them mad props, though. They managed to completely cut him down to size while my baby girl was none the wiser. I mean, I knew they weren't exactly dumb or anything but who would have known they could wield the vocabulary of the snide remark, and even my dad, who usually had the subtlety of my sledgehammer.

Seriously, it was like watching some amateur tennis player getting slammed by Roger Federer in the stealthiest way possible.

Looking at the way Edward just sat there and took it without breaking a nerve, I felt slightly confused. I mean, how could he just sit there and happily let my parents do their worst when he'd all but blow a fuse when I'd merely tried to have a conversation with him.

A conversation that involved no hidden agendas at all, unlike the only I was listening to.

"Well, pumpkin," Dad breathed, patting his belly as tried to muffle my giggles as my baby girl mimicked his action, "what do you say to a little moonlight mystery trip to work off some of that pie?"

"Cool!" Charlie squealed. It was no secret that my dad was one of her favorite people in the whole wide world, and that wasn't just because they shared a name. It was because she, like me, had inherited the Swan love of the outdoors; finding infinitely more pleasure in sloshing around in some murky rock pool all while smearing all sorts of nature on her clothes than in staying indoors and playing with dolls and other pink, girly crap.

My baby girl defied all standards by which society usually held the 'little girl' and the epitome of her own unique interpretation was the moonlight mystery trip; a fifteen minute walk in the pitch black forest as it came alive with all sorts of creatures of the night.

I think eight out of ten mothers would have been scared to death, sending their kid out into the woods when they knew they might have been in danger of running into a bear or a mountain lion, but not me. Having lived here all my life, I knew those creatures rarely ventured so close and besides, my dad had his shotgun with him and everyone around here knew he was one of the best marksmen in the county.

"You coming along, Cullen?" Dad arched his brow in question as they waited in the doorway, his hand protectively on Charlie's back.

"Nah," Edward shrugged, looking around the quickly emptying dining room for a good excuse. "I think I'll pass."

I chuckled, thinking it might be a very wise decision for him to forgo walking into the woods at night with an armed, angry sort-of ex-father-in-law.

"Edward can help us clean up," I finally offered, carrying heavy stack of dirty plates and serving dishes in front of him to carry into the kitchen.

Dad grumbled under his breath as he shot into his coat, his hunting rifle slung over the arm that wasn't holding onto Charlie. I knew he'd never let her go.

"It's okay, they're gone now." I chuckled, taking the stack back from Edward, who apparently hadn't mastered the fine art of walking-with-dishes yet. "I'll take it from here before you destroy my mom's fine China. Besides, you'd only be in our way if you really helped."

"I would have made myself very useful," he pouted, competitive as always. "I'd have you know that I've been living on my own for years now and have never contracted food poisoning to this day!"

I snorted. "A fine accomplishment indeed!"

"But now that you've mention it," he backpedaled, "I do have a few calls to make so I'll let you get to it." And like that, he walked back to the seat he'd vacated just minutes ago, his attention already on his cell phone as I jostled the dishes back to the kitchen.

"Did Edward go with your dad?" Mom looked surprised to find me alone. "I wouldn't have thought the boy was so stupid!"

"He isn't," I chuckled, "he's in the dining room calling his family." Dropping the plates into the sink I turned towards her. "And what was with that whole not-so-passive aggressive stuff in there?"

"You know very well what I was doing, young lady," she lectured, pointing the sudsy washing brush in my direction. "I did what you should have done: I stood up for _your_ rights."

"I can stand up for myself!" I scowled, grabbing the dish cloth. "In fact, I did. Remember the diner fiasco?"

"You were standing up for Charlie. Now let me see you do the same for yourself."

I sighed, hiding my face behind my hair as I bit my lip. "It's just so hard, Mom. I love him, but this side I keep seeing of him now that he's with Angela? I just don't know." Shaking my head, I continued. "Sometimes it's almost like it's not really him…like he's somehow changed so much over the years that the only thing I'm holding on to right here is a memory."

"Then make up your mind one way or another," she ordered sternly, all but slamming a washed pan down onto the counter. "Because there's one thing a mother doesn't ever want to see and that's her own kid being unhappy. We both want to see you smile again…and really mean it."

"I'm sorry, Mom." Fighting the tears I looked up at her. It hurt to know I was causing my parents pain. After all they were already doing for me, I didn't want to add another burden to their lives but at the same time, it was so hard to see myself move through this that I still had no idea of how to even start.

"Just try, baby girl," her voice soothed. "That's all we can ask for. Don't do it for us, do it for _you_; because you can't go on like this any longer."

After drying most of the stuff that didn't go into the dishwasher, I left mom to clean up the rest of the after-dinner mess while I went to clear my head. The talk I had with her had really thrown me and I needed some air to breathe as I thought about my options.

_Really_ thought about them.

You know, as opposed to doing what I'd always done until then: keep calm, bury my doubts, and keep on silently pining for Edward.

Therefore I could only have been karma's sick way of giving me a little nudge in the back that made me catch the words coming out of the dining room as I walked past it on my way to the back deck.

"…you know I love you, Angela." The certainty in his voice shattered my heart into tiny little pieces. "Don't worry, babe. It's only been you, you know that. I wouldn't have asked you to move here with me if I didn't see my future with you."

Only her.

He saw a future with her – _only_ her.

That meant that while I'd been dutifully working like hell to turn myself into someone worthy of him, he'd been moving on, and happily fucking other women, like Rose had said.

Which was bad enough in itself, but why did it have to be _her_?

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_**Thoughts? **_


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